


Comes The Dawn

by idrilhadhafang



Series: The Daughter of The Suns [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Everyone Has Issues, F/M, Gen, Loads and Loads of Characters - Freeform, Mara as the first of the New Jedi Order, NaNoWriMo, Rebuilding the Order Kotor 2 style, Redeemed Obi-Wan, Redeemed Ventress, Sith Obi-Wan, just about everyone lives, non-Episode VII compliant most likely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-04 09:37:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 60,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5329367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idrilhadhafang/pseuds/idrilhadhafang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a year ever since the horrific events at Bespin, and Mara Kenobi finds her biggest challenge is yet to come. She must rescue Han Solo from Tatooine and Sabe Naris from the clutches of the Empire, as well as complete her Jedi training. Meanwhile, the Empire has built a new Death Star, and the Rebels must go up against it once more. Every step of the way finds Mara growing ever closer to her final battle with the Emperor -- and the final battle within herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Repetition And Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Well, here it is. The final installment of Mara's adventures. Hope everyone likes it.

Sabe Naris – Sabe Kenobi – was in chains.

She didn’t know how long she’d been floating in that sea of numbness that seemed to surround her, that coldness, that sort of coldness that could only be described as almost akin to Hoth on its coldest nights. In this numbness, there seemed to be no beginning, no end, merely nothingness, merely numbness.

In the cold, there was only a feeling of eternity that wouldn’t subside. A sort of repetition, while her mind came up with the worst memories that she had ever gone through.

They said that solitary confinement was one of the worst punishments that one could ever go through – being left alone with one’s own mind. Being left alone with one’s memories as their mind continued to try and cannibalize itself. And Sabe knew what they meant now. Because her mind…her mind was already replaying those memories.

_The Trade Federation taking over her planet, all while she was all but helpless to watch. Something in the back of her mind, wondering what kind of queen she was, exactly – what kind of queen was she where she couldn’t help her own people?_

_Looking out the window, watching Nute Gunray and the others take over every part of Naboo that she had called home. Padme’s hand near her shoulder. “Don’t worry, my lady – they won’t be here long. We’ll find a way. Even without fighting.” None of them had wanted to go to war. Sabe, Padme and the others had only learned too well of how catastrophic and terrible war truly was from both their parents. And the people of Naboo had no desire to kill anyone, to experience any casualties of their own._

_***_

_Sio Bibble, speaking to her and to Padme – “The death toll is catastrophic! We must bow to their wishes! You must contact me!”_

_And even long after the transmission ended, Obi-Wan speaking to them. “It’s a trick. Send no reply. Send no transmission of any kind.”_

_“How can you even say that?” Padme, saying in that moment just about everything that Sabe wanted to say right now, but had to hide behind her Queenly persona. “These people are suffering, dying – we need to get to them.”_

_Obi-Wan’s eyes were soft, full of infinite compassion. “I know you want to help them, Padme. I know that Her Majesty wants to help them as well. But the hologram – I could sense something about it. You know how some holograms look when they’re obviously fake? As if there’s something flawed in how they’re made?”_

_“Yes,” Sabe said. “So…the Trade Federation’s trying to trick us.” She sighed. “Trying to goad us out of hiding so they can sign the treaty.” Even saying it out loud, she already felt the old anger start to rise in her. She was never going to let the Trade Federation get anywhere near Naboo, and she would sign no treaty. Any treaty that would make an invasion of the planet she swore an oath to protect legal (legal, honestly!) was something that she wanted nothing to do with. “They want to scare us.”_

_“I think that’s about right,” Obi-Wan said. “And it nearly worked.” He looked up at her, and there was something reassuring in his gaze that Sabe could not help but feel a certain amount of comfort from, even if it was small. “Don’t give into them, my lady.”_

_“I won’t,” Sabe said. “I would never give into these men.”_

_Obi-Wan smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t, my lady.”_

_Long after he left, Padme turned to look at her. “Let me guess,” she said, and there was a bit of teasing in her voice, “You admire him.”_

_“He’s a good defender,” Sabe said, “And a brave man.”_

_“It’s not just that, is it?” Padme said. “You like him.”_

_“Padme!” Sabe laughed in spite of herself. It was the first time since the Trade Federation’s invasion that she’d actually found some time to laugh. How often was it that the two of them actually got to laugh together since the invasion, almost like any other pair of fourteen-year-old girls? “I don’t…I admire him, but I don’t like him, as you say. He’s not my boyfriend.” She sighed. “I doubt we really have much time. Especially considering the invasion.” Besides, he’s a Jedi. Jedi aren’t allowed to love. Sabe had heard of exceptions; Master Ki-Adi Mundi was apparently quite the polygamist, but those seemed to be nothing more than exceptions. They weren’t actually things that you could flout, even for a moment._

_Padme placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know.” Her voice hardened then. “It’s unfair is what it is. We’re stuck here on this ship, on this planet, and all the while, they’re bullying our people into submission. Herding them into camps – and all the while, the Senate does nothing.”_

_“Chancellor Valorum could help us,” Sabe said._

_Padme shook her head. “I want to believe you,” she said. “Now, I’m not so sure.” And Sabe could tell from the tone of her friend’s voice that Chancellor Valorum, who was once one of their strongest allies, seemed to be about as useful as a broken terminal at the moment. Blinded by fear._

_Sabe drew her close then. “We’re going to beat them,” she said, “And that’s a promise.” She didn’t know how, but they would. Someplace, somehow. She could only hope that she wouldn’t have to call for a vote-of-no-confidence in Chancellor Valorum’s leadership._

_That she doubted that she could ever do. Valorum had become more inefficient over the years, but he was still a fundamentally good man, and a good ally. He just let the Senate push him around too much._

_But do we want a man who’s just pushed around by the Senate? Do we want someone like that?_

_That was a question that Sabe had an answer for, and it was a disquieting one._

_No, we don’t._

_Then who do we trust?_

_Senator Palpatine is our best chance. If there was anyone who could actually act against the Trade Federation, and any future threats to the galaxy, it would be him._

_Sabe only hoped that Valorum would see reason – in the end, he was a fundamentally good man. In the end, he wanted to defend the Republic just as much as anyone. She had no doubt of that._

_She just wondered how strong his resolve would really hold when the time came._

_More memories flashed through Sabe’s mind, more terrible memories of things such as hearing the death toll from Order 66 and other assorted matters even from the desert on Tatooine. She knew because Padme frequently went into things that seemed, to Sabe, a lot like seizures whenever it happened – and because the Emperor himself was quite the gloater. His deeds were broadcast over the Holonet, and were discussed in some corners of Tatooine, so Sabe and Padme could still pick up on them even when they were in hiding on Tatooine._

_Sabe could still remember the way that Padme had looked. The grief that seemed to overtake her every time she heard of another death, the pain that seemed to overtake her every time Palpatine killed another Jedi, or for that matter, a traitor – anyone who rose up against him._

_The best Sabe could do was hold her close then, let her weep into her shoulder, as that was the best thing that she could do now. Comfort her, be there for her, as they had always been there for one another during the Battle for Naboo, and during the Clone Wars. When Ahsoka had died, when the others had died – Sabe had always been there for her._

_And at night, there were times when Sabe wondered, purely and simply, Why us? They had tried to do whatever they could, and in return, it seemed that fate (or the Force, as Padme put it. Sabe couldn’t say she understood the Force, or what exactly her friend was talking about at times. The Force seemed to go every which way, the Force seemed to just yank them around for their own purposes. Han might have said that no mystical energy field controlled his destiny, but in some of her darker moments, Sabe occasionally wondered if that mystical energy field was just yanking them around for its own sadistic amusement. It made as much sense as any) had decided to screw them all over._

_“You know, I’m starting to understand Darth Traya’s point of view.” Her younger self, first in hiding on Tatooine. “History’s just painted her as a lunatic, but you know, I get it. I mean, when she was sucked into Malachor’s depths, away from her lover and her daughter, all because they wanted to win the war quickly, when she had to watch her apprentice succumb to the Dark Side,  every student she trained, actually, big and small – when she watched the galaxy tear itself apart again and again, I bet she reached out to the Force and asked why exactly the Force did this to her.”_

_“Sabe.” Padme’s voice, soft, gentle. “It’s all right – ’’_

_“No, it’s not.” Sabe sighed. “I don’t want to destroy the Force like she tried to, but I get it. All our lives we’ve served the Republic, all our lives we’ve tried to fight against any evil that’s threatened it, and all these people…” Her voice cracked and she had to look away. “They were murdered. And why? I guess the Force has a plan for all of us, but I don’t buy it. I think it’s just a sadistic little son of a schutta, that’s what it is.”_

_Padme didn’t even react. Indeed, her eyes merely became soft, gentle, kind. “There’s always hope, Sabe,” she said. And yet looking at her, Sabe didn’t know if she actually believed it herself, or was just saying it to get through the long hours in exile, the long hours on Tatooine when you had to shield your eyes from the twin suns blazing up in the sky, without screaming too much._

And then there was Yavin. The flames blazing their way through Sabe’s mind once again. Leia and the others, ordering everyone to evacuate. The people who had fallen trying to take down the Stormtroopers. The shock and grief that overcame everyone there – even Han, who usually had his irrepressible supply of snark and wit handy for the occasion, seemed to be in the sort of shock that she hadn’t seen him in even after Alderaan, including some choice words that implied the punishment that the Empire could look forward to in the Corellian hells. The torture on Bespin. And then…this.

Sabe didn’t know how long she’d been floating in here, how long she’d been in this nothingness, this numbness. In a way, Han didn’t need to think up some inventive sort of fate for the Empire to receive in the Corellian hells. Hell was repetition – hell was floating in the numbness, the nothingness, and having to relive every worst memory that you had. Over and over again.

Hell was repetition. That was how one of the sayings went. And if that was the case, this was close enough to hell.

There was a sudden shifting, almost as if…someone was lifting her up. Sabe shifted, still lost in the soupiness of her memories, the sort of dream-reality blur that she was in, the sort of hell that still engulfed her. They lifted her, carried her…somewhere. She didn’t know where. Right now, it seemed that more of her memories streamed back – better ones, but even those seemed to be constructed to be painful. Mara being born, as well as Ben – dear Mara and dear Ben. Better times with Obi-Wan before this had all happened. Naboo, ten years after they had liberated it from the Trade Federation, where she and Obi-Wan sat in the meadow together and simply talked. It was just talking, but even that was one of the happiest memories that they had.

And even that was gone. Old friends that Sabe had, everyone she’d fought beside – they were gone. Murdered, turned to the side of the Empire in some instances…all of them were gone. All of them.

And that was part of this hell as well. The hell that Sabe had put herself in. The hell where every mistake and failure came back to haunt her.

The hell that she, Terminus, Padme, Vader…the hell that they were all in.

“Unfreeze her.”

There was too much heat. There was too much warmth. Sabe couldn’t bear it. It seemed that her flesh was being cooked off her bones. And there was too much white, too much blinding white, too much –

_Light._

Sabe fell from the carbonite block. The guards caught her – their grips were too hard.

There was too much light, too much cold – Sabe almost missed the excruciating heat. Even as Sabe stepped into the white, she felt as if she was still in darkness, even with the painful light that was still blazing in her eyes. And she was cold. Freezing, actually.

“Take her to one of the private chambers.” Ventress’ voice, unmistakeable. Slimy, heavily accented.

“Is she all right?” one of the guards said.

“Hibernation sickness,” Ventress said. “It’s a normal part of the carbon freezing process. It’s for the best that we didn’t kill her.”

So Ventress didn’t want her dead when she stepped into the carbon freezing chamber. There was very little solace in that. There were many things worse than immediate death, after all. That Sabe knew. From the stories that she had heard of the Emperor’s cruelty, of his brutality, she knew that many things he came up with were worse than death.

“As I said,” Ventress said, “Take her to the chambers. When she recovers, I have…questions for her.”

And already, Sabe had a feeling as to what Ventress meant by that. Interrogation. Torture. In her mind, she could still hear Ada screaming and pleading for the pain to stop even as Ventress used her lightsaber blade as a brand against her cheek and arm – turning down the setting, of course, so it wouldn’t kill Ada, just be enough to cause excruciating pain. Ada was strong, but there was only so much pain, only so much torture, that she could take. And for her, it must have almost been like being back on the Death Star, when she had been tortured and interrogated. Terminus had expressed regret for that, saying that he had tried to keep it at a minimum, only to so much of what was necessary. It was one of many things that her husband deeply regretted, along with Alderaan’s destruction (even though he had no part in that, as she tried to tell him time and time again), the murders of his old Jedi comrades and even some Jedi he barely knew, and much more. There was plenty that Terminus had to make up for, to atone for, and he had wondered on occasion to her if even what he was doing already was enough.

And seeing Ada screaming like that again – it had frightened her. It had frightened her more than the prospect of her own pain – that Sabe could handle. It was the pain of others under her care, knowing she failed to protect them, that one of the “mothers” in the team couldn’t save them.

She wasn’t afraid of what fate Ventress had for her. She would be willing to endure whatever she could if only for her friends, for her son and her daughter, for her husband, for the Alliance and Naboo as a whole (which still stood strong, but there was still the terrible chance that the Emperor would go after it).

She only feared for those she had left behind.

 

 


	2. Chapter One: To The Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara and co. plan the rescue of Han and Sabe -- not at the same time, as they're on different places, but the rescue's underway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Staging Mon Mothma's reaction to all of this was pretty difficult -- I hope she's at least in character.

“…Mon Mothma, you don’t understand!” Vader's voice seemed to drift in from outside Mara’s room even as she lay there, all but confined to her room as she’d been for the past few days ever since Ventress had sliced her hand off. In a way, it seemed that this room was her prison in and of itself; she wanted to be out there in the field, fighting alongside the others (who cared about her mechanical hand, after all; she could still fight!), but instead, she had to stay behind. “Our friends are still out there. Han’s…well, according to Lando, he’s in Jabba’s palace, and Sabe…I have no idea where she is. I can only suppose that she’s been taken to the Empire. At least one of their places. Where they hold prisoners. But we can’t delay any longer – they’re out there, and if we don’t go and find them – ’’

“Kitster,” Mothma said, “I know that they mean a lot to you.” Her voice was soft, sympathetic. “And they are good fighters. But the mission is risky, and we’re still working on the matter of acquiring the new Death Star plans. The Bothans are in a bad situation – ’’

“I know,” Vader said. “But the two best assets to your mission are still out there. I don’t know what they’re doing to Han. Or to Sabe. Sabe – they’re going to torture her, or they’re going to kill her.” His voice cracked. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Kitster,” General Madine’s voice cut in, “You don’t even know where Sabe is.”

“Actually, I do,” Padme said.

General Madine’s confusion registered all too plainly. “How do you even – ’’

“I can feel it,” Padme said, “In the Force.” She took a deep breath. “Kitster…reach out through the Force. Try and feel her.”

And even while Kitster did so, Mara reached through the Force as well, feeling for her mother, wherever she was, wherever she might be…

And it was there that she felt it. Her mother was on some sort of space station, something that almost looked like the First Death Star.

The second Death Star that Mon Mothma had been talking about. That Mara had been absolutely terrified to learn about, because she knew already what it meant. Just because she had destroyed the First Death Star (with Han’s help, and Father’s) didn’t mean that they were going to stop building machines like that. Indeed, Mara’s destruction of it only fueled their further revenge against the Empire.

“She’s on the second Death Star,” Vader finally said. “Dear…dear Force.” Mara could feel the anguish that was building in him. “We need to get her out of there.”

“We will,” Mon Mothma said gently. “Of course we will.” It was clear that Mother’s loss weighed heavily on her. It had weighed heavily on all of them – Father had gone into what Mara could only conclude was some sort of emotional catatonia that she had never seen him go into, and for all he talked about Sabe doing her duty and how they needed to do theirs, Mara knew that he wasn’t buying even a bit of what he was saying. Padme herself had been trying to argue him out of that catatonia (Mara couldn’t say how many nights that she’d heard Padme say variations of “You can’t just give up! You never give up! We never give up!” and things like that), and Leia herself…

Leia herself was not a woman who tried to let her emotions get the better of her – indeed, she seemed to be dedicated to burying her emotions in work for the Alliance, but they shone through nonetheless. Things such as late at night when Mara would hear her crying faintly in her room, tears that it was clear that Leia didn’t want anyone to see. Or, for that matter hear. And then there was the matter of Ada, who was already having nightmares about the torture that Ventress had inflicted on her. Even hearing the Rebel medic (Lian was working elsewhere, mostly with the refugees from Bespin, making sure that they had a good place to live after they had fled from Ventress’ control. “Mother Dragon”, they affectionately called her) go over Ada’s injuries, including Ventress using a lightsaber to brand her (to brand her…that had been the injury, the torture that had made Mara the angriest and vow to, next time she saw Ventress, beat the poodoo out of her until she was begging for mercy. The only thing that held her back was the knowledge that that in and of itself was a path to the Dark Side, and Mara had no desire to go to the Dark Side) was enough to make Mara angry, nauseous. Ben was there to help, of course, and Padme and Mom, who were trying to fill in for Sabe’s role as the “mother to the crew”, and Mara did her best to be there for Ada, and Leia, and many others, but even watching Ada thrash around in her sleep, scream, was enough to make Mara wish that she could do more.

Not that she could do more anyway, considering how the medic seemed determined to keep her prisoner here. It was for a “good reason”, the medic said, making sure that her new mechanical hand worked properly (also known as another thing that she and Father had in common. Funny how in the end, they had more in common than Mara could have imagined the first time she met up with him on Tatooine), but it was enough to make Mara wish she was actually out in the fold, going to rescue Han, going to rescue Mother.

She sighed, ran her non-mechanical hand through her hair. Already, she doubted that she had ever felt more tired.

Mon Mothma spoke then. “It will be risky, more than risky. But we need to save Han and Sabe both. They are valuable fighters. If they are lost…it will be over, for all of us.”

“Yes,” Vader said, and Mara could already sense what he was thinking. And it will be over for every one of their friends as well. Kitster had promised to protect the others with his life, just as, back when he was still a Sith, he’d promised to protect Ventress with his life. He seemed to have made an unspoken vow to protect the people he cared about, which Mara could understand completely. After all, she herself knew she had to look after those she cared about however it took. To protect them. To save them. She knew when she had to do her duty, of course, but the thing about duty is that sometimes it seemed too much like thinking in terms of a grand, almost incomprehensible abstract instead of the little people who got sacrificed on the way.

Vader continued. “It will. And that’s why we have to go and save them.”

Mon Mothma spoke then. “Then you have our permission to go to Tatooine and rescue General Solo. Good luck to you, all of you.”

“Mon Mothma,” Padme said, “Thank you. You won’t regret this. And we won’t fail in this.”

“Just be careful,” General Madine said. “All of you. Jabba’s Palace is going to be bad enough, but infiltrating the Death Star…” He sighed. “The best we can rely on is data from the Bothan spies.”

“Indeed,” Mothma said. “If we get the data from the Bothans, then it’s guaranteed we will know where to find Sabe. I promise.”

“I know.” Padme sounded more somber then, and Mara’s heart sank. Considering that the collection of data from the Bothan spies was still in progress, they were on a wild bantha chase for all they knew right now. Mara could sense the second Death Star, but where it was…well, that was something that she didn’t know. And it was frustrating, all of it – it was purely, simply frustrating. I should be able to know. I should be able to feel where that monstrosity is –

Perhaps that was one of the worst parts. Just not knowing.

It was then that Vader entered, along with Padme, Leia, Ada, and the others (except for Mom and Dad; Mara had a feeling that they would never, ever allow their adopted daughter to go on such a reckless trip. Even after all the adventures they had gone through together, Mom and Dad still had their limits when it came to the girl that they had raised. And though Mara loved them dearly, some rules were made to be broken, especially in times such as this) and Mara turned to look at them, grinning. She already knew why they were there. The determination in their faces said volumes.

“Ready to go?” Padme said.

“Yeah,” Mara finally said, “More than ready.” She stood up then, took a deep breath. “I’m tired of waiting here. I’m tired of being cooped up here. And Mother and Han are still out there. Probably being tortured, or worse.”

Vader grinned then, a grin that made him look much younger than he was – almost like a cocky, reckless teenager. In a way, in many ways, he still had those qualities in him. “Then let’s go.”


	3. Chapter Two: Rebuilding Of Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we check on Ventress and see how she's doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Writing Ventress was a lot of fun. I really liked writing her interaction with Jerjerrod; it was pretty entertaining to write in a rather bleak way.

In contrast to the looming shape of the second Death Star – even if it was a Death Star that was still in progress, for that matter – the moon of Endor seemed woefully small. Gleaming green in the blackness of space, it seemed small, pitiful, weak.

Looking out the window of her shuttle, Asajj Ventress doubted that she knew why, exactly, the Emperor would choose to build a Death Star over the moon of Endor. After all, aside from the creatures known as the Ewoks, who, contrary to their small, fluffy, seemingly harmless appearance, could be vicious if need be, Endor didn’t have much to offer. Then again, the Emperor seemed to be making increasingly questionable decisions as of late, which was no surprise.

It would leave plenty of room for her to overthrow him, she knew that much. The Emperor was powerful, of course, and even with all she had learned, she was hardly any match for him (not many Jedi or Sith would be a match for him. Even Master Yoda had been beaten when he had taken on the Emperor for the first time, or so Ventress had heard) but nonetheless, he was arrogant, overconfident, sloppy – his decisions had been starting to reflect this as of late. His overconfidence would be his downfall sure enough. He thought he was being incredibly clever, letting the Rebels get their hands on valuable Death Star plans – plans that, of course, had let the Rebels destroy the first Death Star years before. But it would bring down the Empire, that delusion of cleverness, that arrogance.

He had always been arrogant. Now…now soon enough, it would lead to his downfall. He had also been getting more volatile – he had been furious with Ventress for “letting” Mara Kenobi escape at Bespin, which had resulted in yet another blast of Force Lightning, as well as various other tortures that Ventress doubted that she could ever truly describe out loud.

It gave her fuel, she knew that much. In a way, the Emperor torturing her for her failures only made the anger stronger, the resolve stronger. She would overthrow this man, and she wouldn’t take the cowardly route of, say, poison or killing him in his sleep. She would duel him, and when she won, she would make him beg for mercy as he had made her beg times in the past when she had failed him. She would make him feel every piece of pain that he had ever inflicted upon her.

Oh yes. In the shadows, Ventress smiled. She would make him feel every bit of pain that he had inflicted upon her, she would make him scream. She would make him suffer, as he deserved to suffer. And then when he was all but reduced to a sniveling, blubbering mess, genuinely pleading for his life, then she would let him die.

In the front, she vaguely heard the pilots of her shuttle giving the security code to deactivate the security shield that had recently been installed as an additional prevention measure against Rebel attacks. They still hadn’t worked on closing the exhaust port but then again, as far as Ventress could see, they were barely finished with anything on the Death Star. Indeed, it still looked as if a piece had been ripped out of it, although that was more because the final stages of construction were barely completed for it.

The shield deactivated then, letting them through, and other Imperial crafts surrounded the shuttle, escorting it in. And the sight of the stormtroopers standing before all of them, standing at attention as the shuttle drew into the bay, was enough to fill just about anyone with pride. Ventress at least was quite fond of them, if not of the man that was currently assigned to look over the project – Jerjerrod, to be more precise.

Ventress gritted her teeth. She was never fond of the man. A pompous cretin with hardly any creativity, ambition, drive, any sense of leadership whatsoever, and yet a man who seemed to believe that he was, plain and simply, better than the rest. She had worked with egotists of course, but there was something about Jerjerrod that was enough to make her dislike him even moreso than the late and unlamented Motti and Tarkin.

Then again, the Emperor seemed to have a talent for selecting smug and vicious fools to carry out his commands. Pellaeon, Thrawn and Piett, of course, were notable exceptions – these three were at least dedicated to the last in terms of carrying out their mission. And Needa, aside from his failure in capturing the Falcon, was an otherwise good officer. But the rest? After she killed the Emperor and took the throne for herself, the first thing that Ventress would do was eliminate every unworthy, arrogant creature that the Emperor had ever put into power and replace them with those who were willing to do their jobs.

The shuttle stopped then, and Ventress walked out of the shuttle. For all the outside was hardly finished, the inside was beautiful – it did still call to mind the glory of the Empire, all the Empire could have been if not for the arrogant madman who currently ruled it at the moment.

Jerjerrod, of course, immediately took to fawning. “Lady Ventress,” he said, “It’s an unexpected pleasure. We’re honored by your presence – ’’

“You may dispense with the pleasantries, Commander,” Ventress said curtly. Indeed, any attempts at pleasantries from Jerjerrod only made her dislike him more. The man was, quite plainly, slime under a Hutt’s tail. Perhaps not as bad as Motti or Tarkin, but insufferable nonetheless. “I’m here to put you back on schedule.”

Jerjerrod blanched, and Ventress, on the inside, smirked. Seeing the smugness fade from him, even a little, was more than satisfying. “My lady,” he said, “I assure you, my men are working as fast as they can.”

That hardly speaks to your men’s capabilities. On the one hand, it was heavily doubtful that anyone could construct a space station of the same magnitude of the First Death Star, without the first one’s weaknesses (including severely underestimating how an X-wing could get through an exhaust port and hit the exact weak spot that would allow the First Death Star to be destroyed). But on the other, Jerjerrod wasted Ventress’ time with excuses, plain and simple.

“Then perhaps I can find new ways to motivate them,” Ventress said. When in doubt, the threat of a Force Choke, or other similar physical violence, could be quite effective in terms of getting the men moving.

“I tell you,” Jerjerrod said, and Ventress could practically feel the panic emanating from him, his attempts to placate her, “This station will be operational as planned.”

“The Emperor does not share your optimistic appraisal of the situation,” said Ventress, “And for that matter, neither do I. Your attempts are pitiable – have you even completed that other third of the Death Star?”

Jerjerrod wet his lips. “My lady,” he said, “Both of you ask the impossible. A project of this magnitude…we need more men to cover it. I need more men.”

“Would you like to discuss it with the Emperor when he arrives?” Ventress said wryly. “I’m certain he’ll be very fascinated with your excuses for your own lack of progress.”

Jerjerrod’s face seemed to go almost as white as the plating of stormtrooper armor. And his breathing became shallow. On the inside, Ventress felt a mixture of amusement and triumph. The arrogance seemed to be completely gone from him. “The Emperor’s coming here?”

“Yes,” said Ventress, “That is correct, Commander. And he is most displeased with your lack of progress.” Indeed, that was an understatement. News of further delays in the Death Star’s construction had actually sent him into a rage – these rages seemed to be quite common nowadays, his punishment for her failure at Yavin being one of many examples of such things. “Of course, perhaps you could tell him why? Your excuses would be quite the entertaining progress report.”

“Th-there’s no need for that, my lady.” Jerjerrod took a deep breath, clearly trying to compose himself. “W-we shall double our efforts.”

“I do hope so, Commander, for your sake,” Ventress said, “The Emperor is not as forgiving as I am.”

“I know, my lady.”

It was long after Ventress left that she finally allowed herself a full-fledged smirk that she couldn’t allow herself to express in front of Jerjerrod. She had managed to actually whip Jerjerrod back into action in completing the Death Star before the Rebels inevitably destroyed it while it was still in the construction stages (and thus vulnerable), and in the process, it had been quite amusing. It was moments such as simply keeping Jerjerrod on his toes and reminding him, to use an old saying, that he wasn’t the biggest rancor in the pit, that kept Ventress’ job under the Emperor from being complete hell.

Then her smirk died away. There was still the matter of actually overthrowing the Emperor, which she was going to do without a doubt, but she needed assistance. Perhaps recruits as well – those who would overthrow her when the time came. It was the way of the Sith. Compete or die. Mercy, loyalty – those were irrelevant. Of course, Vader had never really learned that, and he seemed reluctant to do so (loyalty seemed to be embedded in his blood) and Mara Kenobi would hardly understand the idea of betrayal being what kept the Sith going after all these years, what allowed the strong to survive, but they would learn. In time.

For now, she had to exploit the Emperor’s weaknesses, find the best time to engage him in combat. Ventress, after all, was no fool. She was not a coward, merely practical, and practicality was needed in moments such as disposing of your old Master who had long outlived his purpose.

And after all he had done to Terminus, to her, and Vader – she knew that she would enjoy every minute of killing him.

 

 


	4. Chapter Three -- Infiltration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara and co. begin their rescue mission. It's about to go pear-shaped, but they don't know that yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Sorry I skipped a day -- I kind of had Darth Homework sink its teeth into me.

Mara hadn’t thought that even after all this time, she would actually see Tatooine again.

When she had last seen Tatooine, she had been fleeing it with a group of friends that she never thought that she would actually grow to be as fond of as she was now, she didn’t know the true identity of her parents and her twin brother, and she was just taking a step into a world that was far larger, far greater, and far grander than she could ever have imagined. A world that was frequently frightening and unfair, but could also be incredibly beautiful, as she had seen. She had also been nineteen years old and making her first steps into the world that she knew now, a world that Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru had been adamant was nothing more than fairy tales, a fool’s crusade, things of that nature. Stories that she never wanted to follow, lest she end up like her biological father.

And she could understand where they were coming from, in a way. Because her father – he hadn’t meant to go that far along the path he had. His intentions had been good. Problem was that sometimes good intentions weren’t enough. Sometimes good intentions led you to do terrible or at least reckless things. Mara hadn’t killed anyone – no one that she didn’t have a choice but to kill, and she tried to avoid it whenever she could – but she had been reckless in running off to Bespin like that with Luke, Padme, Vader and Terminus. And that hadn’t solved anything. Han was still in carbonite, and her mother…

Mara didn’t want to think about what Ventress was doing to her mother. She just knew that when she finally caught up to Ventress, she’d make the hairless, sadistic harpy sorry that she had ever decided to cross paths with the Kenobi family, let alone try and treat her mother the way she did.

Mara swallowed, took a deep breath. It was still a struggle at times working at controlling her anger. Controlling her worries of the Dark Side inside her. She still had visions of the Emperor at times – they were just visions, just dreams, nothing that could really hurt her, but there was something about the visions where, when Mara woke up in a cold sweat on certain nights trying not to scream, they seemed far, far too close.

And they were too close. She was going to have to face off against the Emperor at one point. Mara only hoped, prayed that she was ready. She’d have to go back and speak with Yoda at one point. Apologize for being stupid and reckless, because that was what she had been in the end. Not for trying to save Han and her mother, but by rushing in there without even the slightest semblance of a plan.

Mara Kenobi, now nearly twenty-three, was better than this. She knew that. And yet she had decided to rush into danger without so much as putting a plan together.

“Are you all right?” Ben’s voice, soft, gentle.

“Yeah. I am.” Mara took a deep breath. “It’s weird being back.” That was one part of all of this. Ahead of her, C-3PO was animatedly chatting with R2-D2 about how dangerous it was going to Jabba’s palace. “…if I told you half the stories I heard about this Jabba the Hutt, you’d probably short-circuit.”

And Mara couldn’t blame him. People could call Threepio high strung all they wanted, and to an extent, it was true, but Jabba the Hutt was not a being to be crossed. On Tatooine, people were afraid of the Hutts, and for good reason. Considering Jabba had a short temper and a sadistic streak from some of the rumors that floated around Tatooine, he was one of the most feared Hutts.

Plus, breaking into his palace was not going to be easy. Mara had dyed her hair from its usual vivid red to a deep black (and she couldn’t say that she was used to the change, not quite. It made her look weird. She was used to her red hair, which had been a source of occasional teasing when she was still attending school on Tatooine, mostly when she was a kid and some would call her “carrot-top” to try and get a reaction out of her) and had borrowed a dancer’s outfit off Padme (Padme still had one of those; Mara had asked her how she got it, and Padme had merely said that Sabe had used it once on a mission. Maybe one of the things that Mara could ask once she got her mother out of custody was exactly how she even came into possession of that atrocity), that being something that she hoped, when they rescued Han, that they would never, ever ever speak of again.

They drew closer to the palace then. Mara took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Let’s just get this over with.

Nobody answered at first. Then a small hatch opened and an eye jutted out just then, surveying the group. “Te chuta hhat yudd!”

Mara took a deep breath. “Arica-wha.”

It wasn’t the best alias that she came up with, Arica, but it was better than nothing.

“Ey toota odd mischka Jabba du Hutt.” Mara couldn’t say that her Huttese was perfect, but it would have to do.

The eye surveyed them, and there was a moment when Mara worried if her cover was going to be blown. A deep mechanical laugh echoed out, then the eye jutted back in and the hatch closed.

“Well, it was worth a shot,” Mara said.

“I don’t think they’re going to let us in,” Threepio said. “We better go.”

Then, right on cue when Threepio said that, the door opened. There was something about the glimpses of the palace that she could see in the darkness that reminded Mara almost of a dungeon where the evil king would keep his prisoners, the sort of dungeon from the stories that Mom would read Mara when she was little to help her get to sleep. Of course, the evil king got beaten in the end. That was the thing about stories – the evil king wasn’t defeated yet in this galaxy, but in the stories, he was always beaten.

“Looks like it’s too late to leave,” Mara said. “Let’s go.”

The others had various disguises of course – Terminus stayed on the ship, as he said that his armor would make him far too recognizable considering the infiltration job that they were planning – from hoods to various bits of armor covering them. Mara supposed that she could brush this off to Jabba as them being various bounty hunters, masters, things such as that. As for Threepio and Artoo…

Already, she felt sorry for both of them. They’d probably have to work for the gangster, and from what she heard, Jabba wasn’t exactly the best boss when it came to his men. They were only rumors, of course, but they were still enough to make you worry.

It was along the hallway that they ran into the Gamorreans. Artoo beeped nervously then, but Mara patted his dome. Gamorreans could get vicious, but they also couldn’t attack you unless the person in charge ordered them to. Or the Hutt in charge, in this case. There were exceptions, of course, but usually Gamorreans answered to somebody else. They were more of the thugs of the galaxy, the enforcers, the muscle than anything else.

One of the guards grunted an order then, and a Twi’lek appeared. Bib Fortuna – a pale Twi’lek with red eyes and sharp teeth that reminded Mara almost of a maalras.

“Die wanna wanga!” Bib said.

“Oh dear,” Threepio said. “Die wanna wauaga. We…we wish to see your Master, Jabba the Hutt.”

Mara swallowed. “I’ve come to dance for him, Majordomo.”

Silence. For a moment, Mara was almost afraid that Fortuna would refuse, but Fortuna gestured to her. “Nuud chaa!”

They followed. Then Ada spoke, her voice a low whisper, slightly muffled by the mask she was wearing. “That was easy.”

“Of course it was. Jabba’s the exact sort of son of a Sith who would take all the dancing girls he could get. Especially the humans.”

“Is that normal for Hutts?” Ada said.

“Not that I’ve heard,” Mara said. “I guess it’s just more of a Jabba thing.”

They walked into Jabba’s main room, different kinds of bounty hunters, henchmen, and various aliens gathered around. Jabba himself sat on the cushion, and there was something about his eyes, the way those eyes seemed to drift over her and the others, that was enough to make Mara feel as if her skin had actually started crawling. She took a deep breath though, forcing those feelings down. At Jabba’s feet was a Kowakian monkey lizard, who looked up at the group with mocking, beady eyes. It was an odd contrast, the massive Hutt and the small creature at his feet, and Mara couldn’t help but wonder how exactly Jabba got a Kowakian monkey lizard.

Then again, it probably wasn’t that unusual.

Bib Fortuna then walked over to Jabba, leaning forward to murmur something in his ear. Jabba looked up at them.

“Who are you?”

“Arica, Your Excellency.” Mara had practiced throughout her years in the Rebel Alliance in terms of bluffing, disguises, things of that nature. She just hoped that it was going to save her here. “I’ve come to dance for you.”

Jabba laughed. “Excellent! I have been looking for a new dancing girl ever since the…unfortunate incident with my last one.”

So he killed her. Mara supposed that wasn’t a surprise, unfortunately. It made her dislike Jabba all the more, but it wasn’t out of character for him. The Hutt had a short temper for those who seemingly failed him, if what Han said about him was any indication.

“And your companions?”

“They’re just looking for work,” Mara said. “My droids…they’ve also been looking for a job.”

“Mistress – ’’

Mara held up a hand. “Both are hardworking, and will serve you well.”

Silence.

“Bib…take the droids down to the boiler room. Ninedenine has jobs for them.”

Artoo sent an angry blatt Mara’s way, and Threepio began wondering if he had somehow displeased his Mistress in his work somehow, but Mara mouthed, quickly, “Don’t worry.” She didn’t know how much comfort that that would be to Threepio and Artoo, but it wasn’t going to be forever. Just a matter of blending in. Then they would break Han out and get out of there.

Jabba spoke then. “Step forward then, Arica, and dance for me.”

Mara took a deep breath and stepped forward. It was something that ordinarily she would have found repulsive, and she still did – just the presence of Jabba’s eyes on her, that large, repulsive, slimy tongue licking over his lips, the way he looked at her, was enough to make her feel as if she was even more unpleasantly exposed than she was. But nonetheless, she danced. The best she could do was, almost, like what she did with the Force – block out everything except for what mattered the most. She could already feel Luke, Padme and the others tense protectively next to her, their hands going to their weapons on instinct, but she shot them a quick look that let them know that there wasn’t any need to do something as reckless as that. She listened to the various instruments that played, the pace that began to pick up, and so she danced. She spun about, and in the dance, she lost herself, seeming almost like a whole blur of motion, of pure blue.

And finally, the dance was over. She could only hope that she had lived up to Jabba’s expectations. Finally, the Hutt spoke. “You have the natural grace of a dancer. Have you done this before?”

“I have, sir,” Mara said, still trying to keep Arica’s sort of humility. “Many times.”

“You will do well,” Jabba said. “But know this – disappointment will cost you greatly. My previous dancer, Oola, did not learn this lesson. She did only when it was too late.”

Because she defied you, Mara thought. Because she rejected your advances, no doubt. Knowing Jabba, it wasn’t out of the question.

Even as the celebration continued on into the night, Mara continuing her dance, trying as best she could to blend into the sounds of “Jedi Rocks” (which Max Reebo and his band had set up), she knew at least that phase one had been completed – she’d gotten into Jabba’s palace. Of course, if she’d ever asked her younger self if she’d ever wanted to break into Jabba’s palace, said younger self would assume that she had gone completely crazy. Now here Mara was, nearly twenty-three, and she was in the process of breaking into Jabba’s palace to rescue Han Solo.

Some would have found it humorous. But to rescue one of her friends – and it was probably odd that Mara would consider Han a friend, but she did – she would do anything.


	5. Chapter Four: Reunion of Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara's plan goes pear-shaped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

It was long after sunset had begun on Tatooine that the others snuck over to where Han was being kept, more precisely the frozen block that hung on the wall. Even looking at it was enough to make Mara’s chest suddenly clench up – it was bad enough that Han had been frozen, that their pilot, that the main guy on the Falcon keeping things running (Padme and Sabe had been the mothers to the crew, Vader and Terminus the advisors, Han had been the glue making sure that his crew got out of trouble time and time again, especially thanks to pure ingenuity), was hanging up on the wall like some perverse sort of trophy. But it was also the fact that the look in his eyes was pure agony – this was a man who had felt the whole freezing process, had probably tried to escape. At least Sabe had looked peaceful when she had been frozen in the carbonite, almost as if she hadn’t experienced any pain.

Granted, it was little solace, especially considering that Sabe was probably hiding it as best she could, but even so, it was some sort of solace for Mara, all things considered. Han, meanwhile, had felt the whole process. Had no doubt struggled, fought –

Mara bit her lip so hard that she swore that she drew blood.

“Are you all right?” Luke said.

“Yeah.” Mara took a deep breath. “I hate them. I hate them all.”

“Who’s ‘them’?”

“Jabba,” Mara said. “The Emperor. Ventress.”

“Calm yourself,” Padme said. “Remember the Code. Remember your training.”

“Right.” Mara couldn’t say that she agreed – indeed, the very idea was starting to seem like bantha poodoo considering the chaos that they had experienced in the past days, but at least it was enough to calm her down. Enough to make her breathing become steadier, enough to make her body calmer. “Right. I need to stay calm. I need to remember my training.” There was something in her that almost wanted to say kriff this, kriff all of it, what good has the Code done anyone but Mara quickly quashed it. Right now, they were on a rescue mission.

Mara took another deep breath then and turned to look at Luke. “That being said, remind me,” she said, “To never do this again. Just his eyes…” She sighed. “If he tried anything, he would have been the deadest lump of slug on Tatooine, mark my words.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Luke said.

“Luke,” Mara said lightly, “Are you blushing? Honestly.”

“N-no.” But Luke didn’t seem to be very convincing in that moment. Honestly, Luke had never been good at lying. “O-of course not.”

Mara smiled. Then she became more serious. “And the moment we get out of here, we’re going to stop Ventress and the others. Well, tie up some loose ends first, of course, but definitely stop Ventress and the others.”

Padme merely nodded. Mara could tell that she was remembering how they had ultimately ended up cutting her training (as well as Terminus and Vader’s retraining for that matter) short when they had to go and save Sabe and the others. Not that that had been successful. In terms of rescue missions, Mara couldn’t say that it was one of her finest moments.

“Sounds good,” Padme said. “Come on.”

Mara reached towards the control panel. Padme gestured towards the switch that deactivated the force field. “You’ll have to get rid of the force field first,” she said.

Mara flipped the switch that deactivated the force field, and the slab lowered from the perch that it was on. That was a good thing. Mara didn’t want to go through the unfreezing process only to accidentally kill Han by having him break his neck. The matter of the rescue mission that had involved Han being frozen was bad enough – accidentally murdering Han by having him break his neck, or at least have him fall into the force field, would just be downright embarrassing.

“Other side now,” Padme said.

Mara reached to the other side and flicked the switches on the other side. She glanced anxiously at Han then – she was already hoping that the unfreezing process was going to go off without a hitch.

Then again, why wouldn’t it?

Finally, she flicked the de-carbonization lever. What happened was almost instantaneous – it seemed as if rays of light were shining through Han’s hands and chest and face as the decarbonization process took effect. The hard shell that covered Han’s face started to melt away, and the coat that was holding Han in place also melted away, allowing his hands and arms, previously raised as if to shield himself against something that Mara didn’t see – probably the freezing process that was about to come on. Even thinking about that, something that could have made Han scared, made her only resolve to, whatever it took, make sure the Empire remembered why the name Mara Kenobi wasn’t to be taken lightly – to drop slackly to his sides, and his facial muscles, frozen in horror, relax from that expression. He collapsed then, practically falling from the carbonite slab, and it was only Mara’s efforts and the others’ that kept Han from likely breaking his nose or his neck or anything of that sort.

She remembered the time when she had accidentally broken Han’s nose during a particularly terrible nightmare. Mara didn’t want to break his nose accidentally again. Or any sort of body part. Not that it would have helped now.

“Is he all right?” Ada’s voice this time.

Leia spoke up as well. “He’s not badly hurt, is he, Mara? He’s all right?” And it seemed for the first time since Bespin, her worries, her grief, her fear, fully shone through. And Mara wished right now that she could say something to reassure Leia that he was all right, except she wasn’t quite certain as to what was going on herself. Han’s body wasn’t cold, but there was something about how his body hung in her arms almost like a ragdoll that was unsettling.

“He looks pretty bad,” Mara said. “I don’t think he’s – wait. I feel something.” Indeed, Han’s presence was weak at first, but after a while, after a long while actually, it became stronger, and Han’s breathing…it started again. It became heavier, then Han started coughing. That…that was one hell of a good sign.

“Thank the Force,” Padme said softly. “He’s alive.”

“Of course he is,” Ada said. The Tantive IV survivor stepped forward just then, out of the shadows. “Ventress tried it out on Han just so she could make sure that things worked…well, for Mara. She wanted to make sure that her prisoner wasn’t going to accidentally be murdered.”

Mara gritted her teeth. Even remembering that day, even thinking about it, was enough to make her anger start to fire up again. But that wasn’t going to help anything. So she took a deep breath, managing to regain her composure as best she could, and she said, “He’s out of the carbonite, he’s alive, and he might be having some hibernation sickness, but we’ve got him out of here. We can talk about this when we get back to the Falcon. Is that all right?”

Ada nodded. “Good idea. Let’s get out of here before Jabba and his goons suddenly decide to grow some brains and catch us.”

“No arguments there.”

“Huh?” Han was speaking – his speech was muddled, blurry, but it was very much Han’s voice. “What the hell is going on here? Did I miss something again?”

And that – that was definitely a sign that Han was all right. He was still managing to make some snarky comments. That was, all things considered, quite the plus in Mara’s book.

She sent Leia and the others a quick smile. And Leia’s smile – that grin could have lit up Jabba’s palace just through its sheer radiance alone. Like a ray of sunlight in a seemingly endless dark tunnel. And after all the times that Leia had feared for Han and worried for Han and mourned for Han, all while carefully trying to bury it under Alliance work and more, it was a relief to see that Leia was simply all right.

Thank the Force. Thank the Force.

“It’s okay, Han, we got you,” Mara said. “You’re out of the carbonite.”

Han’s hand drifted to his face almost like a man in a dream, or a man coming out of it trying to understand in full exactly what was happening. “I can’t see – ’’

“Hibernation sickness,” Padme said from next to her. “It’s a normal side-effect of being frozen in carbonite.”

Han blinked. “Wait, I know you both. Mara? Padme? Stang, looks like the whole gang’s here – how did you all get in here?”

“Yeah,” Mara said. She was almost glad that Han couldn’t see much at the moment; she didn’t exactly look forward to his sarcastic comments about her current get-up. “Leia’s waiting for you. Lando too. Come on.”

It was then that Leia raced forward and embraced Han tightly, as if they had been apart for years (considering the agonizing wait after Bespin, it almost felt like years, Mara thought), all while Han fumbled against her, clearly trying to feel for her and where she was. “L-Leia! Easy there,” Han said, some joking in his voice, “I-I can’t see…”

“Han, thank the stars.” Leia took a deep breath. “I thought we lost you that day.”

Han grinned. “Well, look at me. I’m here, I’m all right. Come on, let’s – ’’

It was then that a guttural, almost burbling chuckle echoed from the shadows. And Mara froze. Jabba and the others. They had been spotted. They’d been stupid, they’d been careless, they’d been talking too loudly and woken Jabba. Already, Mara was tempted to smack herself. Stupid, stupid – how could you not have realized this? Now they were going to have to fight Jabba. Or get captured themselves – thrown down into the dungeon with the others who had failed Jabba. And Mara couldn’t say that she was looking forward to either option.

Han spoke, trying to bluff his way out of this the best he could considering he was just recovering from the carbonite. Hibernation sickness was pretty nasty, and right now, Mara couldn’t say that she envied him. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Mara, I’m fine.” Han took a deep breath. “Hey, Jabba, listen, Jabba, I was just on my way to pay you back, but I got a little sidetracked. There was that whole business with the Death Star and the possible end of the galaxy; Chewie kind of guilt-tripped me into it. And then we had things like an attack on the base – ’’

“How touching,” Jabba said sarcastically – the sort of sickly sweet sarcasm that made you tempted to strangle someone, Mara thought. “Our little bounty hunter Solo, a Rebel. Who would have thought? Who would have known?”

Next to him, the Kowakian Monkey Lizard laughed that annoying, almost shrieking laugh. Mara gritted her teeth. It seemed that the Monkey Lizard’s job here was to laugh at every one of Jabba’s jokes, never mind how “funny” they were or weren’t. Next to her, she could already sense Leia’s annoyance, and Vader himself looked as if he were visibly trying to keep his temper under control.

Mara turned to look at him and shrugged; it was the best she could do, if only to let Vader know that he was far from alone on all of this. Vader sent her a quick smile, and already, Mara was grateful for it.

“It’s too late to pay me back, Solo,” Jabba said. “You may have been a fine smuggler, but now you’re bantha poodoo.”

“Jabba,” Han said. “Look – I’ve got your credits! I’ll pay you!”

“Take him away,” Jabba said to his guards.

The guards dragged him off, all while Han continued to protest, saying things such as the fact that Jabba was already throwing away a fortune, that he was being foolish, that Han would pay triple of what he originally owed, and Mara already felt a clenching sort of dread in her stomach. They’d already gotten Han out of carbonite. She hated to think of what Jabba and his goons would do now.

Still, they were going to find a way to get Han out of there. Somehow.

“And you, Arica…I hate to throw away a fine dancer.” It didn’t exactly take a telepath to figure out exactly what Jabba’s gaze meant, and Mara already wished that she could use her lightsaber to slice off Jabba’s head right now. Even his eyes, those bloodshot, hideous, bulbous eyes that trailed over her, were enough to make her feel nauseous. “However, you betrayed me. You tricked me. You failed me. And those who betray me must be punished.”

Mara drew her lightsaber. “Sorry it had to end this way, Jabba.” Actually, I’m not. Not really, after what you’ve done.

Jabba laughed, that burbling, guttural laugh that already made Mara dislike him even more. Then he said, “Bascka!”

Threepio spoke up then, sounding not only worried but downright terrified. “Mistress Mara, look – ’’

Mara barely had any time to react before she found herself falling into the pit below, much to the laughter of Jabba and his goons.


	6. Chapter Five -- In The Rancor's Den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara fights the rancor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Mara didn’t know how far she actually ended up falling, but it was the sort of height that seemed both immediately over and took a while to be over. It definitely wasn’t the fall from Cloud City, she’d say that much. Then again, after the fall from Cloud City, things like this just seemed completely easy. That was the first thing she noticed – even with the fact that this was, to put it mildly, unpleasant, it would still be preferable to the fall from Cloud City to the bottom of Bespin. At least she had a sense of solid ground, instead of her legs clinging to the weathervane, and her dangling into the clouds, feeling the stinging winds all but whip at her face.

At least she had solid ground. It was sad when that was the best thing that she could really rely on. That she could actually find a good place to stand. The bad news was that in terms of trying to find her way around, it seemed that the whole thing was nothing was shadows. She was in a cave of some sort, but it didn’t feel like a cave. Not like the cave on Dagobah at least – it felt too roomy, it felt too open, and Mara already found that there was no way out. If being trapped at the bottom of Bespin was a case of either going back up to Ventress or falling into the clouds below (and to her possible death), this was a case where she was locked in.

This was probably how a lot of Jabba’s slaves – because that’s really what they were, from the dancing Twi’leks to his enforcers. They were slaves. Put a toe out of line and you got punished. As if she didn’t have enough of a reason to dislike Han’s now-ex-boss. When they got Han out of there, she had a feeling that they’d all be glad that Han got out of there. Well, if they got Han out of there – ended up dying. They were trapped in this place. This miniature cage, with the bars at the top, preventing anyone from climbing back onto the surface, and, as Mara checked the other exits, it was clear that there were plenty of bars there. So she was stuck in here, in this space that was more spacious than a cave, but at the same time, more cramped as well.

Just a cage for Jabba’s victims to die in. Well, Mara would be damned if she was going to die in here, in this horrible place, in this cramped space, in this dark, disgusting, miserable cage that Jabba had set up for his victims. She was going to give whoever or whatever lived down there hell first. Plenty of hell. Because she was Mara Kenobi, and even with Jabba’s goons laughing their miserable heads off, chanting, eager for the upcoming slaughter that was soon to come, eager for the latest victim of Jabba the Hutt to meet her death,  she was going to make sure, at least, that she would fight her way out of this.

Mara Kenobi was not a victim, after all.

Mara Kenobi was a warrior, a fighter, and she was going to play that part to the hilt. She was a Jedi, and she was going to fight her way out of this. She was going to get out of here. Whatever it took.

Then the gate started opening, and at first, all Mara could see was claws and teeth. Most of the beast that was behind there was barely visible – it seemed as if it was waiting in the shadows, waiting for its time to come. Waiting to confront his new opponent. Mara gripped her lightsaber and ignited it, even as the gate continued its seemingly inexorable opening.

 

It was then that Mara heard C-3PO’s voice from above, more panicked than usual, and that was quite an accomplishment, actually. “Oh no! The rancor!”

And Mara’s blood chilled. She already knew what was going to happen. One simply didn’t walk away from a rancor alive. Of course, there were exceptions, people who had managed to out-trick rancors, but those were exceptions; they weren’t generally the rule. And considering how Mara could see the bodies lying around, the gnawed skeletons of those who had been previously thrown into the pit, she already knew what was going to happen. She was going to be the rancor’s next dinner, and on her tombstone would be the inscription HERE LIES MARA KENOBI. AFTER ALL THIS TIME, OUTWITTING THE EMPIRE, SHE WAS FINALLY EATEN BY A RANCOR. QUITE ANTICLIMACTIC, DON’T YOU THINK?

But that wasn’t going to happen. She was going to outsmart the thing however she could.

The gate continued to open, and it was then that she saw the beast, not as big as an AT-AT, but definitely competing to be such. Its claws were extended, its teeth bared, and Mara could see the moisture that was clinging between its teeth, the beast all but salivating for a bite out of her. Its skin was leathery, and everything about its long claws and sharp teeth suggested that it was very much what rancors were reputed to be – creatures of incredible ability, creatures who were one of the best predators out there, along with krayt dragons and plenty more.

Mara sighed. This was going to be a long fight. Even as she threw her grenades at the beast, shot at it, and did plenty more, it seemed that no matter what she tried, she couldn’t bring the beast down. It seemed that the beast just kept coming. The beast wasn’t as big as an AT-AT, but it was definitely close enough. It lunged at her, and Mara shoved a bone vertically into its mouth just in time, just to slow it down.

The bone only took a short time before the rancor snapped it, its powerful jaws crunching down on it as if it was nothing. It turned towards Mara, its beady eyes seeming glazed over with hunger, ready to grab the Jedi that had caused it so much trouble. Mara wondered, absently, how many of the other prisoners had given it grief, before having to dodge out of the way of one of its swipes.

Great. Just great, Mara. What are you going to do now? Even as she dodged the rancor’s snapping, hungry jaws, she could already feel its thoughts – the rancor itself wasn’t a bad creature. Indeed, it had been made the way it was through what was basically animal abuse. Not by its trainer, but by Jabba himself. As if there wasn’t enough of a reason to hate Jabba. She reached out towards the rancor then, even as she dodged another one of its snaps – rancors, she realized, had powerful jaws.

It’s all right. I can help you.

The rancor looked at her, and it was clear that it was bewildered by the very thought, just for a moment. But Mara could already feel, just from its thoughts alone, that it didn’t want help. In the end, it wanted food, any kind of food at all, and if it needed to eat the Jedi who wanted to help it, so be it.

In the end, Mara had no choice but to leap atop it just then.

Using the Force to maneuver herself onto the rancor’s back, she dodged the rancor’s hands that were already grabbing at her, trying to shove her into its mouth, and stabbed the rancor through the mouth.

The rancor collapsed then. Even as it collapsed just then, Mara thought that she could feel its thoughts: Hurts…hurts…it doesn’t hurt anymore…it hurts no more…

I know. Mara reached into its mind just then. It’s okay. Jabba’s not going to hurt you anymore. Mark my words.

No. No more…

The rancor went still then, and for an almost absurd moment, Mara could have sworn that it wasn’t dead, but simply asleep. She pulled the lightsaber from its mouth then, lightly petting its head before heading off towards the doors of the cage.

By now, above seemed to have turned into a madhouse. Jabba bellowed in rage. “Bring me Captain Solo and the Wookiee! They will suffer for this outrage!”

Sure, Jabba. It’s Han’s fault. There you go, passing the credits. Never mind that you put me in this to begin with. And abused that poor beast to the point of insanity. At least it can’t suffer anymore. The two rancor keepers came into the cage then, and Mara watched as one of them, a large, muscular man with a larger belly, practically ran towards the downed rancor before collapsing and beginning to weep.

“I’m sorry,” Mara finally managed to say. Even looking at the rancor and the man who wept beside it, it was clear that once upon a time, the man had been good friends with the rancor. Perhaps the best friend that it had ever had, if not the only one.

The Kadas’sa’Nikto next to him, who looked as if he were about to seize Mara, just for a moment relented to go and stand by the other keeper’s side, as if in an unspoken form of comfort. Just for a while. For a moment, it seemed that the whole scene, the whole madhouse, stood still.

Not that that lasted, of course, as the other guards immediately dragged Mara up towards Jabba. Across from her, Han and Chewie were marched into the throne room as well.

“Hey!” Han gave her a bleary grin. “What’d I miss?”

“Nearly got eaten by a rancor,” Mara said.

“Nearly, huh?” Han said. “Did you kill it?”

Mara nodded.

Han went more serious. “Best thing to do,” he said. “Jabba treated that creature horribly.”

“I know,” Mara said. “I could feel it.”

“Jabba doesn’t exactly treat anyone well,” Han said. “Can’t say the rancor was an exception.” One of the guards poked him with one of their pikes. “Ow! Okay, okay, I’ll move.”

They stood in front of Jabba then, and Mara could already feel him gloating. It was shaken a bit by the fact that she had managed to kill the rancor that he commonly fed people who failed him to, but he was still planning something unpleasant, even horrible, for the group of them if only for what they had done so far. C-3PO stepped out then, even as Jabba began to speak.

“Oh dear.” Threepio’s voice didn’t exactly tremble, but judging by how small it became, it was clear that even for the normally high-strung protocol droid, this was hard for him to recount. “His Royal Highness Jabba the Hutt has decreed that you are to be terminated…immediately.”

“Maybe he’ll actually get it right this time,” Mara said wryly.

Next to Jabba, the Kowakian Monkey Lizard laughed – that unpleasant, almost screechy laugh that Mara hated at once. The rest of Jabba’s palace seemed to laugh as well, and it was an unpleasant laugh, the sort of laugh that said that in the end, Mara and company had no idea what they were in for.

“You will be therefore taken to the Dune Sea and cast into the pit of Carkoon, the resting place of the all-powerful Sarlaac.”

Mara felt a sudden chill in her. She had heard stories of the sarlaac – the agonizing process of digestion was just one of them.

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” Han said, and Mara was almost tempted to laugh. Han really had no idea what he was in for.

“Actually,” she said, “It’s pretty bad.”

Threepio continued. “In his belly, you’ll find a new definition of pain and suffering as you are slowly digested over the next thousand years.”

“On second thought,” Han said, “Let’s pass on that, shall we?”

Chewie barked in agreement.

That makes three of us, at least.

“No,” Ada said. “Never. I won’t let you hurt any of them, ever!”

She charged at Jabba then; it was the moment the Hutt bellowed “Seize her!” that the guards did, grabbing her if only to restrain her, all while she kicked and bucked at them, shouting curses that would make a Corellian dockhand impressed.

Mara turned towards her and shot her a quick wink. Ada calmed, seeming to understand – it was clear that she didn’t know what Mara was planning, but it was going to be interesting at any rate. She winked back, though it was clear that she was frightened – frightened not for herself, but for her friends and what was going to happen to them.

But they were going to get out of this. Even as the guards escorted Mara and the others towards the ship that was scheduled for the Dune Sea, it was clear that Jabba and his slimy friends had no idea what they were in for.

And it was going to be spectacular.  

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

If one was to look to the Dune Sea for miles and miles, it would be mostly nothing but sand. Sandy dunes that rolled off into what seemed like continually repeating swells of desert sand, the scorching Twin Suns that beat down on all of them (Mara was grateful for the Arica costume at least in one respect, especially in terms of how hot it was, even for Tatooine), the expanse of blue sky that seemed vivid and beautiful in contrast to the swells of golden sand. Han, next to her, swiped at his forehead, trying to wipe away the sweat, only to feebly poke himself in the eye. He winced, blinked.

“You all right?” Mara said.

“Fine,” Han said. “Dignity’s a bit damaged, but I’ll live.” He sent her a quick, cocky smile that was very much Han, and it was a relief that at least that part of Han hadn’t really suffered in the end while he was still in carbonite. That was reassuring to hear, at least, and to see. Then he turned back towards the front, squinting past the sun. “There’s a lot of light. It hurts.”

“I think your eyesight’s getting better then,” Mara said. She still remembered the brilliance of the Twin Suns just then, and how they beat down on her head while she was doing chores (when one had a whole mane of thick, heavy, curly red hair, it only made things worse, forcing Mara to pull her hair back. At one point, she’d actually find a way to cut the wretched thing short. Chin-length at least), how the heat burned your skin if you weren’t careful, how the heat made you sweat and the sweat got in your eyes, making them sting. It had been one of many things that Mara hadn’t been fond of back on Tatooine.

Not that there weren’t some things on Tatooine that Mara had been fond of – racing Luke through Beggar’s Canyon. She couldn’t say that she was fond of some of the other residents, such as Camie – the girl had always struck her as a snob, the sort of girl who thought that she was the Grand High Empress of the galaxy (though she would probably take Camie over their current Emperor any day) and treated her and Luke as if they were just bantha poodoo she’d accidentally stepped in. But she’d been fond of Biggs, she’d been fond of Ackmena, who’d run that cantina before the Empire had decided to shut it down, things like that.

It was strange the things you started to muse over when you were about to die – and not the quick death, but the sort of death that took years. Years – that was something that Mara didn’t want to contemplate. But they wouldn’t have to. Because she wasn’t going to let Jabba kill any of them. Indeed, when they got out of this, she was going to give the son of a schutta a taste of his own medicine.

“I guess,” Han said. “When I got out, it was just a big dark blur at first. Now it’s a big light blur. Is it like this normally here?”

“Yeah,” Mara said. “Mostly a lot of sand and heat and sky. And Sand People, Hutts…so I’d say that your eyesight is improving.”

“Good to hear.” Han sighed. “Pretty kriffing embarrassing way to die.”

“That’s embarrassing?” Mara said.

“Well, after all the other stuff we got out of,” Han said, “Isn’t this kind of embarrassing? I know it’s kind of embarrassing for me.”

Mara raised an eyebrow. “You have an interesting idea of the word ‘embarrassing’.”

“If you say so.” Han sent her a smirk. “Nice outfit, by the way.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Mara said. “You have a girlfriend. And I’m certain if Leia heard you saying all this, she’d draw blood.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Han said. “Just didn’t think that you would try and pull this off.”

“Neither did I.” Mara took a deep breath. “Just remember the plan, Han. And stick close to Chewie and Lando; they know what they’re doing.” Lando had her lightsaber at the moment, but it was mostly for safekeeping and, of course, to keep up the illusion of Lando being one of her captors.

Lando was pretty good when it came to disguises and keeping up illusions. It had been how he’d gotten Leia and the others off Bespin in the first place – tricking the stormtroopers. Mara could only hope that it would come back to help them in this situation.

Then again, Lando was good. What could she possibly have to worry about?

Finally, the skiff stopped at the sarlaac pit itself. Mara looked at it, looked down at the yawning pit with the tentacles extending from it, and the mouth that seemed, almost, Mara thought, like a beak. It squirmed and made sounds that seemed almost desperate, hungry – looking for its next meal.

“Victims of the almighty sarlaac!”

Threepio’s voice. Mara turned to look at him, at Artoo, who had stopped his serving duties on Jabba’s sail barge for a moment just to watch the proceedings, the sneering faces of Jabba’s henchmen and the sort of smug, sneering look on Jabba’s face Mara desperately wanted to wipe off.

“His Excellency hopes,” Threepio said, “That you will die honorably.”

Yeah, right. Jabba hoping that they would die honorably was a lot like the Emperor wishing the same thing – it was a whole load of bantha poodoo that Jabba probably put forth to make himself look more reasonable, to make himself look more merciful and kindly than he really was. It was the sort that Jabba would say just to keep up the image of a crime lord who really, really was just doing the best he could; after all, his enemies had started all of this, hadn’t they? Jabba was a sadist, pure and simple, and a greedy son of a schutta, and none of his attempts at pretending otherwise could really change that fact.

Ada, next to Mara, clapped a hand over her mouth to hide a laugh. Mara couldn’t say that she blamed her. Leia looked disbelieving, and Padme looked grim.

Threepio continued. “But should any of you wish to beg for mercy, the almighty Jabba the Hutt is all too willing to listen to your pleas.”

That I can actually buy. Especially considering that Jabba lived for that sort of thing. Mara could already feel his enjoyment from above when she had been in the rancor pit, with the idea of her being eaten by the rancor, actually eaten – all of this, including the cruelty towards the rancor that he had encouraged (only the rancor’s trainer really seemed to treat it with the respect that it deserved), was just a big show to him. All of this was entertainment.

There was the threat of the Dark Side, and it was still a constant fear for Mara. But one of the things that still disturbed her was the mundane, mindless, petty evil that infected the galaxy – the evil of the Imperials carrying out orders that tore apart lives and families, the evil of the Hutts that kept others in slavery, abused in different ways, killed horribly, things of that nature. Mundane, mindless, petty evil – it was just pieces of a larger whole, and that was one of the things about it that frightened her.

“Threepio,” Han said, “You tell that mindless piece of worm-ridden filth – ’’

“Han,” Padme said, “You’re facing the wrong way.”

“Huh? I…he’s that way, isn’t he?”

It was long after Mara and the others guided him to look exactly Jabba’s way that he sighed. “All right. As I was saying, Threepio, you tell that mindless piece of worm-ridden, sadistic filth that he’ll get no such pleasure from us, and that when he gets to the Corellian hells, he can tell everyone that Han Solo and the others sent him.”

Mara grinned. Right on, Han. Even in the face of certain, painful death, Han knew how to make it seem brave, cool. The fact that he had basically told Jabba the Hutt – Jabba the Hutt, of all beings! – that he would end up going to the Corellian hells was definitely something. Foolish without a doubt, but still something.

Padme stepped forward then and spoke. “Jabba,” she said, “We have no desire to cause any harm. But we will have no choice if you don’t release us. Let us go, and we will be on our way and bother you no more. If not, then we may have no choice.”

“You can’t reason with him,” Han said. “Not twice.”

“I have to try, Han,” Padme said.

Silence. Then Jabba laughed. “Move ‘Arica’ into position. The others will go next.”

Mara smiled to herself. Right on schedule.

She turned to look at Lando, sent him a quick wink. You know what to do. Lando merely nodded, before taking out his pike, prodding her towards the sarlaac pit, the pit that seemed to yawn beneath her, stretching out with its tentacles and beak-like mouth.

Jabba spoke. “Put her in.”

Lando prodded her towards the edge, and Mara jumped, but not before calling on the Force to leap back onto the skiff just then, Lando tossing her her lightsaber, which she caught in time. The other guards, more of Jabba’s guards, rushed at her, but Mara, Lando and the others already charged at them, shooting at them, slashing at them, some of them falling into the sarlaac’s jaws.

Mara couldn’t help but wince even as it happened – she couldn’t help it. After she had heard what the sarlaac could do, she couldn’t help but pity those guards. They weren’t the nicest of beings, but in the end, they were just doing their jobs for Jabba, and she couldn’t imagine that they were particularly happy. Would anyone be happy working under such a sadistic and unpleasable boss?

Probably not. Not by a longshot.

She was jolted from her thoughts by Boba Fett then, and Chewie’s warning howl. Han fumbled about.

“Boba Fett?” he said. “Boba Fett – where?”

“Behind you,” Padme said. “Watch out!”

***

It was strange, but for a moment, Han swore that he could actually feel Boba Fett before the bounty hunter took out his blaster and shot. As if for a moment, he was actually the blaster, preparing to deal that blow. He took out his blaster just then, dodging in time for Boba Fett to accidentally hit another guard, and for that guard, dead before he fell from the skiff, to tumble into the sarlaac’s jaws. The sarlaac was already getting its meal, even if it wasn’t what it really expected.

Han raised his own blaster – in the blur that seemed to make out the world, the different shapes of things such as Mara’s outfit and the skiff and the blobs of white that served as the rare clouds on Tatooine, it was hard to see where exactly Fett was, and yet he knew.

Han Solo just knew.

Han fired. He fired once, twice, three times, and Fett fell from the skiff just then, tumbling towards the sarlaac’s jaws before being swallowed up. Han didn’t know if Fett was actually dead – Fett was one of those guys that just kept coming. He could survive anything – but even that was cut off by Lando’s scream, as somehow, in the chaos, Lando had fallen, and the sarlaac was dragging him down.

Han bent down then, and already he was nervous. He could see a bit better, but even so, in his state, there was that terrifying possibility, that horrible possibility, that he could hit Lando. And then there was the other possibility that he could tumble down into the sarlaac pit as well, which was, without a doubt, something else that he didn’t want.

“Just hold onto me, Chewie,” he said. “I’m slipping.” He took a deep breath. “Don’t worry, Lando; I’m going to get that thing off you.”

“Wait!” Lando said. “I thought you couldn’t – ’’

“It’s getting better,” Han said. “I can at least see a lot of sand.”

Lando laughed feebly. “Just below the leg, Han – careful there – no, that’s way too close, a bit lower – all right, fire!”

Han did. The sarlaac released Lando then, its tentacle retracting, and Lando laughed in relief. “You did it!”

“I know,” Han said. “Come on – grab onto the pike!”

Lando did, and Han and Chewie lifted up the pike just then, allowing Lando back into the skiff. Lando grinned. “I definitely owe you one, old buddy.”

Yeah. “You do,” Han said. “Come on!”

***

  
  


Mara winced and grabbed her hand. The injury wasn’t too bad, more cosmetic than anything else, but it hurt nonetheless. Even long after she sent another guard tumbling into the sarlaac pit, she grabbed her hand again as it flared up once more.

“Mara!” Padme’s voice. “Are you all right?”

“Hurts a bit, but I’m fine,” Mara said. “Come on – let’s blow this  thing and leave.”

“So that’s your plan?” Leia said. “Blow it up.”

“Well,” said Mara. “Basically, yes.”

“Artoo and Threepio are still on there!”

“Right.” Mara sighed, took out her comlink. “Threepio, Artoo, can you hear me?”

“I can, Mistress Mara. I must say, it’s a madhouse; the others are just – oh my! Pay attention to where you’re going, you barbarians! – they’re in quite the panic!”

“Right,” Mara said. “Get out of here. Quickly. This place’s going to blow to hell.”

“You’re going to blow up the ship?”

“Yeah,” Mara said. “Make a run for it. Or a leap for it. I don’t want you blowing up too.”

Silence. Mara could already sense that Threepio wasn’t quite approving of this, but he was willing to do whatever he could to help her. Then, “Of course, Mistress Mara. I’ll be quite glad to get off this ship anyway. If I never see it again in my existence, I’ll be more than grateful. Horrid place!”

I can only imagine. “Good,” Mara said. “Run!”

She reached through the Force as well, warning everyone on the ship then to get off. Get out of here. This place is going to become a fireball, and I don’t want anyone to get hurt or killed. Get to your skiffs and get out.

Some would argue that everyone on that sail barge was evil and didn’t deserve that amount of charity. But charity wasn’t deserved. It was, in the end, for everyone, no matter who they were, and the moment you started deciding who deserved it and who didn’t was the moment you became no better than your enemies. And it was as the others fled to the exits that Mara turned towards Leia. “I warned the others,” she said. “They’re getting to safety. Your cue, Leia.”

Leia took a deep breath before pointing the gun at the deck. And Mara could swear that she could already feel Jabba’s fear in her mind. Not only fear but dismay. It shouldn’t end this way…I’m a powerful Hutt Lord; who do these people, these fools think they are?

Sorry, Jabba, Mara said, reaching out through his mind. You really should have just let Han go when you had the chance.

“Fire at will, Leia,” Mara said.

Leia fired.

***

It was meanwhile, while the others raced for the exit, that C-3PO had a problem of his own. Currently, the protocol droid was in a scuffle with the Kowakian monkey-lizard that he’d seen earlier sitting at Jabba’s tail, who was already viciously pecking away at him, yanking at his eye – and Threepio cried out.

“Not my eyes! Artoo, help!”

The Kowakian monkey lizard, that foul, horrible thing, was already picking away at Threepio’s left eye, yanking it out of its socket. Threepio was already fumbling away, swatting at the foul, beastly thing the best he could considering that his left eye was currently missing – mynocks were already bad enough (he hated pests like that in all incarnations, whether they be winged or otherwise), but this…

It was just in time that Artoo shocked the monkey lizard, who retreated up to the balcony with an indignant sort of scream. Threepio headed off then; he couldn’t see much considering that his left eye was already hanging out of the socket, but he had Artoo with him, which was a blessing, all things considered.

“Thank you, Artoo,” Threepio said. “I thought that foul beast would be the end of me.”

“YOU ARE SUCH A DRAMA KING. DRAMA EMPEROR, IF YOU WILL.”

“Excuse me?” Threepio said. “The infernal thing was picking out my left eye.”

“IT WASN’T THAT BAD. BESIDES, WE CAN FIX IT WHEN WE GET BACK TO THE SHIP.”

Threepio scoffed. “Your sympathy is astounding as usual, Artoo-Detoo.”

“COME ON. LET’S GET OUT OF HERE.”

“What do we do?”

“FOLLOW ME.”

They headed towards the edge then and Threepio turned anxiously towards Artoo. “Artoo, what are we doing? I can’t possibly – ’’

Artoo pushed him then. Threepio felt himself plunging down into the sand, grains of it getting in his eyes, near his mouth (a foul sensation that he hoped, assuming they got out of this, they would never have to repeat again), and he was head down in it, absorbing it, before he felt something land next to him – Artoo had probably fallen as well.

It was later, and much to Threepio’s relief and yet terror, that the two electromagnets attached to a skiff that Mistress Mara, considering her other adventures, had possibly hijacked, pulled them from the sand. As they glided away, from a position that Threepio hoped he would not have to experience again in the near future, he saw the sail barge burning, and he said, “Oh my! What exactly did they do?”

Artoo beeped. “BLEW IT UP.”

“Oh my!” Threepio said. “I hope nobody got hurt.”

“I’M SURE SOME OF THEM GOT OUT.” Artoo said. “SEE? SOME OF THEM ARE HEADING OFF ON SPEEDERS RIGHT NOW. BIB FORTUNA, FOR EXAMPLE.”

Threepio saw the speeders then – he had to admit that the others had a remarkable sense of timing, in terms of getting out before the explosion engulfed them as well. Then again, Mistress Mara had probably warned them. She was a kind woman, Threepio thought – perhaps sometimes too kind, but it was admirable to see all the same.

Mistress Mara shouted something indistinct.

“Mistress Mara, I’m sorry?” Threepio said.

“Are you all right?” Mistress Mara shouted, much louder this time.

“Oh. Oh yes. Although,” Threepio said, “I might have to go to repairs when this is over. That foul monkey lizard pecked my eye out.”

“Salacious Crumb?” This time, it was Captain Solo shouting over the wind. “Yeah, figured.” Silence. “I mostly see a lot of sand right now.”

“Looks like your eyesight’s definitely getting better then,” Mistress Mara said, and the skiff crew all laughed. Threepio could hardly disagree with them; from what he could remember of his unfortunate crashlanding on Tatooine with Artoo, Master Ben and Mistress Leia, as well as finding himself with Mistress Mara, Tatooine was nothing but sand. A most unpleasant planet, and the sand didn’t help matters at all. Threepio already had a feeling, even as they headed to the landing port, that he wasn’t going to miss this foul place. No, not at all.

It was once the skiff lowered him and Artoo that Threepio let out a mechanical sigh of relief. “Thank the Maker! I am never doing this again.”

Artoo beeped. “IT WASN’T THAT BAD.”

“Wasn’t that bad? We were hanging upside down.”

“WE’VE BEEN IN WORSE SITUATIONS. I REMEMBER THAT ONE TIME I WAS FLOATING AROUND IN SPACE…”

And Threepio supposed that at least in that regard, he had a point. Floating around in the vacuum of space was the furthest thing from pleasant that one could possibly get. Well, one of them. Threepio was not what one would call a particularly daring droid, and the idea of someone being a daredevil was something he genuinely doubted he could process.

“Well,” Mara said, “Now that we’re away from that mini-hell that was Jabba’s palace, you should get back to the Alliance, Leia.”

“ ‘You’?” Leia said.

“I’ve got some unfinished business to take care of,” Mara said. “I think Father, Kitster and Padme do too.”

Artoo beeped then. “I’M COMING WITH YOU.”

Threepio sighed. “All right. Just be careful, Artoo-Detoo.”

“IT’S NOT THAT DANGEROUS.”

“If I recall, you were nearly eaten – ’’

“WELL, IT’S NOT GOING TO HAPPEN TWICE.”

“I do wish I had your confidence.”

“WE KNOW THE TERRAIN NOW. AND HOPEFULLY, WE’LL HAVE A BETTER LANDING THAN NEXT TIME.”

“I do too.” From what Artoo had told him about his, Mara, Luke, Padme and Vader’s…expedition on Dagobah, it had not exactly gotten off to the best start. Threepio could only hope that Artoo wouldn’t get hurt. Artoo-Detoo could be infuriating sometimes, but he was the best friend that Threepio ever had, and it was Threepio’s job to look after him.

“We’ll be back,” Mara said. “I promise.”

Leia hugged her just then, and Chewbacca playfully ruffled her hair, causing Mara to laugh. Even watching it, Threepio thought, he seemed almost like a proud uncle. Then Mara said, “All of you, take care.” After some quick hugs, Mara headed towards her X-wing, along with Padme, Vader and Terminus, as well as Artoo.

Threepio watched them go then. “Do be safe.”

“She will,” said Chewbacca. “She has strength in her – the strength of a warrior. As powerful and brave as Master Yoda was in his prime, and many others who served with him.”

“I suppose,” Threepio said. “But I have always been scared for her. For all of them.”

“We all have. We are not blood, but we are still family nonetheless. Blood does not make a family. I look only at Han to see that.” Chewbacca looked over at Han then, and the affection that the Wookiee had for the Millennium Falcon’s captain was all too clear to see. They made an unusual pair and yet they got along so well. A Captain and his Wookiee, soaring amongst the stars. “And we are warriors, are we not? We are the things of legend that will echo in history.”

“Well…do we need to be? I know I am no warrior.”

“We all are. And when the Emperor finally comes face to face with us, he will cower and tremble before us, and it will be earned, for we are the beings who brought the Death Star down and brought down countless soldiers. And for what he has done to my comrades, to my people – he will pay.” Chewbacca practically snarled then.

“Chewie,” Threepio said. “Calm yourself. Be careful.” Chewbacca had a good heart, there was no doubt about it. But sometimes he could underestimate how terrible his anger could be. And though Chewbacca had good reasons to be angry, Threepio feared what would happen if it got out of control. “We’ll free your people. We will make things right. And the Emperor…” Threepio was not a droid who killed, he was not a droid who even knew how to use a blaster or wanted to know how to use one, but he would do his part to the last. “He’s not going to last forever. We’ll defeat him. The Empire too.”

“I know. And one day,” Chewbacca said, “I will stand on the tops of the trees with my people, with Malla and the others, and we will know that we are free, and we shall not need to live in fear any longer. We will know that we will stand, shoulder-to-shoulder, all of us, Wookiee to Wookiee, Wookiee to human, human to human, comrade to comrade, and we shall not need to live in fear and slavery. We will be free, for the first time in so many years. We will be truly free.”

“We will, Chewbacca,” Threepio said. “We all will. Let us go. And when we get on the ship…can you fix my eye?”

“I will see what I can do. And hopefully, it will go better than the last time I tried to fix you.”

“I hope so too.”

They headed onto the Millennium Falcon then. “We,” Threepio began. “We aren’t leaving without Captain Solo, are we? Or Mistress Leia, Ada – ”

“No,” Chewbacca said. “But they still have unfinished business of their own to attend to.”

Threepio supposed Chewbacca was right. He didn’t understand why Captain Solo wouldn’t immediately forgive Lando. After all, for all Lando did, he had ultimately helped them, he had helped take care of Mistress Mara, and he had saved Captain Solo as well. What more did Captain Solo, Mistress Leia and Ada want? Begging? Pleading for mercy?

Still, if Captain Solo, Mistress Leia, Lando and Ada had to, they would stay put for now. In the back, Luke and Ben were playing dejarik, even as Leia, Han, Ada and Lando continued their talk outside in the stinging winds of Tatooine. And Chewbacca, meanwhile, began his repairs on the eye that Salacious Crumb had attempted to pick out. And surprisingly, Threepio thought, Chewbacca seemed to have actually have learned from his previous repair attempts. That, at least, was reassuring.

 

***

Han’s sight was getting better. Instead of the big light blur that he was getting accustomed to, he was starting to see giant blobs that were becoming shapes, which was definitely a plus – better than the blur he’d grown accustomed to when he’d first gotten out of carbonite. And he could see Lando – well, not quite see him, but he could at least sense the awkwardness and the guilt that had come over Lando in that moment. He knew he should hate Lando in this moment – after all, Lando had called the Empire on him. On all of them. Not just Han and Chewie, but the people who Han had grown to realize were very much his people, his crew. Ever since he’d ditched the Imperial Academy, he’d had the occasional ally, but he couldn’t say that he was used to actually having a long-term crew. It used to be that he and Chewie were the only crew he’d ever need. And Lando – well, he wasn’t part of Han’s crew, but Han had been close to him. Liked him even.

“So…hey,” Han finally said.

“Hey.” Lando’s voice was just as slow, hesitant to speak. Almost as if he didn’t quite know what to say. You and me both, Lando. Han didn’t know if he could quite call him “friend” yet. Not after what he did.

“You came back for me.” Han said.

“Of course I did,” Lando said. “You’re my friend. ‘Sides, I can’t say that I have much love left over for the Empire. If it wasn’t for the fact that they would do to Bespin what they did to Yavin, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to,” Han said.

“What could I have done?”

“You could have fought back,” Han said. “You could have just told Ventress to go kriff herself.”

“She’s a Force user, Han,” Lando said. “Against people like her…most of us don’t stand a chance.”

“Well, that’s not true,” Han said. “Not really.” He smiled over at Mara, who was heading off in her ship with Artoo, as well as Padme, Kitster and Terminus, who would be taking their own ships. “We’ve got Jedi on our side. Well, two Jedi…three Jedi and one former Sith Lord.”

“That’s something I was actually wondering about,” Lando said. “Terminus did worse than I did, and he’s on your side without anyone so much as batting an eyelash.”

Han laughed. “Trust me, I don’t think anyone really trusted Terminus at first. It took a while for me to get used to him. Padme mostly saved him because…well, she thought she had to make up for something. She didn’t exactly tell me what she did.” He sighed. “It was a shock is all. You selling us out. But…I guess I owe you one. Thanks.”

“Well,” Lando said, a smile coming over his face, “Couldn’t risk you giving me bad luck.”

“He means,” Leia said, smiling as well, “You’re welcome.”

“I know,” Han said. “Come on – let’s get off this miserable dustball.”

“Hear hear,” Ada said, brushing hair, and some stray sand, out of her eyes. And even as they headed to the ship, Han already couldn’t wait to get back to the Alliance, wherever they were. He’d have one hell of a story to tell them when he got back, that was for sure.

He went up towards the pilot’s seat, and Chewie practically lifted him in a tight hug as he stepped in, and he strained to speak even through what felt like Chewie practically crushing his ribs. “Can’t – breathe – pal – ’’

Finally, Chewie put him down. “Lando did well,” Chewie said. “But he was not quite you. You were our tribe leader.”

“Tribe leader?” Han chuckled. “I like the sound of that.” He sat down in the pilot’s seat, sighed in relief. “Hey, old girl,” he said, running a hand gently over the controls just for a moment. “Missed you. All right, Chewie – punch it. Let’s burn sky until we see lines.”

“Yes,”said Chewie, “Let’s.”

They blasted off from Tatooine then, leaving the wretched dustball of a planet behind, hopefully, for good.


	8. Chapter Seven: Night of the Jedi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ventress and the Emperor have a talk, and Mara and co. go to see Yoda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

While Mara and the others headed away from Tatooine and back to the Rebel Alliance or to tie up some loose ends in Mara’s case, the stormtroopers assembled on the Second Death Star along with Asajj Ventress and Moff Jerjerrod in order to greet the Emperor. The shuttle pulled into the bay, and all snapped to attention. Everyone knew what that meant, after all – the Emperor himself was there, and thus the proper respect was in order. The Imperial Royal Guard were the first to emerge, their red cloaks vivid and striking especially in contrast to the stormtroopers’ pale armor and the black and white of the Death Star interior. They surrounded the Emperor’s shuttle, as they would do in the older days back when the Emperor was still masquerading as a benevolent Chancellor who the others could still allegedly trust.

A Rodian in Ewok’s clothing, as the saying would go.

Ventress still recognized their power, even though they had in the end, turned towards the side of the Sith. How skilled they were, and how dedicated they were to serve their Emperor to the end. Even if she wanted to kill the Emperor, doing so with his Imperial Royal Guard in any proximity…that would be purely foolishness.

The ramp descended then and the Emperor emerged. If an outsider were to look at him, one would assume that he was nothing more than a frail, shriveled old man, his black cloak seeming terribly large on him, but when one looked closer, one would see that even with his walking stick, which he had taken to using as he got increasingly older (not that he would need it in combat. Despite his age, he was still sharp in combat and the Force, if not necessarily in sanity), this was a dangerous man. His face was heavily wrinkled and old, but it was a sure face, and more than that, a face that had a certain malicious glee in it. Malicious glee that could be contained for the moment, but was always there, dancing in those krayt dragon yellow eyes, at the corners of his mouth.

This was a dangerous face. A foolish face, a face that was hardly worthy to rule the galaxy, but a dangerous one nonetheless.

Ventress and Jerjerrod knelt then. In time, Ventress would not have to kneel, not when she eventually rose up and struck the Emperor dead where he stood, taking the place of Empress and Lady of the Sith for her own, but for now, she would have to keep up the pretense of kneeling. The mask of kneeling.

She did not wear a physical mask as Terminus had to, but in many ways, Ventress still had a mask of her own.

“Rise, my apprentice,” the Emperor said, in his almost slithering voice, and Ventress did so, all the while keeping the mask of being a faithful apprentice in place. Appear the Ewok while being the Rodian. Inside, the thought was enough to make her smirk a bit.

They walked along the ranks of stormtroopers, who parted to make room for the Master and his apprentice – his only apprentice now that Terminus and Vader had defected. She could have gone with them. But perhaps it was the thought of them defecting to the light, to the Jedi of all beings, that was horrific and repulsive. She could scarcely imagine such a thing. The Jedi were corrupt and arrogant and self-righteous, doing frequently more harm than good, and the Emperor was a mad, cackling fool. Ventress knew that both sides could burn for all she cared. She cared for Vader, and for Terminus in a way, and yet it was almost a moment where for all intents and purposes, she could say, quite honestly, that the both of them were fools.

Perhaps they’d come around to her way of things. When they saw, they’d understand.

Yes. Hopefully they would understand.

“How goes the progress on the second Death Star?” the Emperor said. It best be progressing well, his voice said. He had been furious with Jerjerrod’s procrastination and seeming laziness, which was something that Ventress supposed they could both agree on, as Jerjerrod was a fool of the highest order.

“I spoke with the Moff,” Ventress said. “He said that he will double his efforts.”

“I do hope so,” the Emperor said, “For his sake as well as ours. I have given him a chance; he had best not waste it.”

“As do I,” Ventress said. And it was remarkable how little effort had to be put into saying such a thing, as it was far from a lie at all.

“Still,” said the Emperor, “The Death Star’s progress is admirable. It looks better than when I first saw it. When it is done, it will be a thing to behold.”

That it will. When you blow every planet to bits, that is.

“And how is Sabe Naris?”

“Quite resilient,” Ventress said. She had to almost admire the former Senator from Naboo – no matter what Ventress did to her, she simply refused to cave. Then again, she supposed it was far from surprising. After all, Sabe Naris had always been a woman of formidable strength of will. “Her resilience is admirable; I doubt I have seen it in a prisoner for a project such as this.”

“I am not surprised,” said the Emperor. “She is a patriot to the very end. But it will be her downfall. Whether she dies or she joins me…her patriotism will be her undoing.”

“And what of her daughter?” Ventress said. “And her son.”

“Patience, my apprentice,” said the Emperor. “In time, they will seek you out, all of them will, and when you do, you must bring them before me. They are strong – even those who are not Jedi themselves have the promise of falling. They have the promise of Force sensitivity in them, and though they claim to be followers of freedom, of justice…” He chuckled; it was the sort of chuckle that suggested that he spat on such things. “The balance can easily be tipped back. But it is only together that we can turn them to the Dark Side of the Force.”

Not only together. Indeed, Ventress would find a way to turn them without the Emperor’s help. Just by actually giving them reasons, as opposed to last time, with her and Mara’s…rather disastrous meeting on Bespin. But nonetheless, she smiled, playing the part of obedient apprentice to the last. “Of course, Master. As you wish.”

If the Emperor sensed that there was something off about her behavior, or anything that trickled through the Force, he didn’t seem to notice, or for that matter, care. He seemed to be lost in his plans to make Mara and her friends Jedi under him. Padme, Terminus, Vader, Mara, Ben…so many of them would be his servants, and inflict his will upon the galaxy until there was no place for any surviving Jedi, any surviving Force sensitive, any Rebel to hide.

The galaxy would completely belong to the Sith.

The Emperor smiled, an unpleasantly broad smile that would put a maalras’ to shame. “Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen.”

He laughed then, an unpleasant cackling laugh, and any who heard barely cared, or barely showed if they were unsettled or not. And on the inside, Ventress smiled again. The Emperor thought himself very clever, a skilled manipulator, a skilled dejarik player with most of the galaxy as his pieces, but he was wrong. He wouldn’t count on his seemingly chronically-failing apprentice to ultimately upset him in the end.

As Ventress knew she would. In time, the galaxy would be hers. Not the Emperor’s, not the Jedi’s. Hers.

And she would put the galaxy truly right again.

 

***

The first time that Mara had landed on Dagobah, it hadn’t exactly been one of the most pleasant experiences, from the rather rough landing that she’d suffered to the matter of the creatures she’d met to the matter of some issues that she and Master Yoda had to sort out before they actually got to training. Mara could still remember how Yoda had said that she was concentrating too much on the future instead of what lay ahead of her, and how she had objected to it. And she still did. She was far from a perfect Jedi – indeed, she still unfortunately had a lot to learn – but nonetheless, she did whatever she could if only to get things done, and that was what mattered the most.

Even Bespin – looking back at it, she had kriffed up. She had kriffed up a lot, actually. But the idea of leaving her friends to Ventress’ mercy, not to mention her family, both her families actually, was worse than repulsive – it was something that Mara doubted that she could ever, ever do.

Master Yoda had taught her a lot. But it didn’t mean that he couldn’t be mistaken about some things.

This time, however, the landing on Dagobah went smoother than expected. There was still Dagobah’s expected wet weather of course, but Mara knew where to land now, so she could avoid landing in the lake like last time. Instead, she felt her ship meet solid ground. Moist ground, but solid nonetheless. And none of those monsters that had tried to eat Artoo last time around.

Mara stepped out of the ship, wiped strands of red hair out of her eyes. Around her, she could hear the faint squawking of Dagobah’s wildlife, and feel the cold air lightly brush over her skin. Padme, Vader and Terminus got out later, and Mara turned to them. “Better landing than last time around?”

“Much better,” Terminus said. “Not to mention better than that landing on Mandalore.”

“Obi-Wan,” Padme said, a smile playing at the corners of her lips, “Are you saying that you actually made a bit of a mistake?”

Terminus sighed, but there was nothing truly exasperated in it. Indeed, it was a good-natured sigh, the sort that suggested that a lot of this was nothing more than banter between very good friends. Friends as close as Mara’s group had now become. She hadn’t expected to become this close with them when she had first started out – now, in a way, they had become a third family to her. There was Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, who were still “Mom” and “Dad” even after all these years, there were her biological parents who were far from the perfect parents but shaping up to be good ones all the same, and then there were her friends.

Blood was thicker than water, of course, but blood didn’t always have to be biologically related. Sometimes it could just be the bonds of people you fought beside and struggled with and comforted and occasionally bickered with and who, if you were at the gates of hell and needed some backup, you’d call upon. No questions asked. No questions even spoken aloud. They were simply there, no more, no less.

That was what mattered the most.

“Padme,” Terminus said, “Like I said, the landing on Mandalore was not my fault. But I would prefer to not go through it again.”

Padme chuckled. “That I can definitely agree with,” she said. Then, “Come on. We should get going.” Her face was more serious this time.

And even as Mara reached through the Force, she could already feel Master Yoda’s Force presence, but it was already wavering, faint. It seemed almost like a fragile thread that was about to snap if it was pulled too tight. And Mara’s chest clenched.

“I should have gone back earlier,” she said.

“We all should have,” Padme said. She ran a hand through her hair; the earlier mirth from her and Terminus’ conversation had abruptly faded. Instead, she seemed very, very worried, even guilty. “If only we had more time…but I suppose in the end there is nothing we can do, except leave it up to the Force.”

“No,” Mara said. “No. That’s a whole load of bantha crap and you know it, Padme.”

“Mara!” Padme looked at her in shock.

“What about everyone who died on Alderaan? Was that the will of the Force? What about the Death Star? Was that the will of the Force? What about Dak Vesser, or anyone else? Was that the will of the Force? Something we can all just leave up to the Force?” Mara sighed. “I can almost understand, actually, what Han was saying. I mean, I respect the Force, Padme, but we can’t just…we can’t be passive about it. We can’t just act like the Force has a grand plan for everything.”

Padme’s face seemed to soften a bit and she placed a hand on Mara’s shoulder. “Some things are unavoidable,” she said. “Illnesses, for example.”

“Isn’t there a way to cure him – ’’

“I don’t know,” Padme said. “He’s very…he’s very old, Mara. Nine hundred years old, actually.” A faint smile. “He doesn’t look it, does he?”

“Maybe a bit,” Mara said. She thought back to when she first met Yoda, his eyes, the wisp of pale hair atop his head. “But he seemed fine when I left…”

“I know,” Padme said. She took a deep breath. “Let’s go see him.”

“Yeah. Artoo,” Mara said, gently, “Watch over the ship.”

The astromech beeped in what was obviously disappointment.

“We’ll be back, Artoo,” Mara said. “I promise. We’ll be gone for a little while. We just need to make sure that none of the wildlife from Dagobah come at this ship.”

The astromech beeped. “YOU CAN COUNT ON ME.”

“I know,” Mara said. For the first time since she had felt Yoda through the Force, she allowed a faint smile to come over her. “I’ll be back.”

She headed off towards the hut then. It was in the rain, as Mara pulled a robe over her head, that she reached out towards the door to knock.

“How is your hand?” Padme said.

“Fine,” Mara said. “I mean, it stung a bit, but it’s not too bad.” She smiled a bit. “I’ve seen worse.” Such as when my hand was actually cut off. She could still remember trying to adjust to the hand, how artificial the mechanical hand felt, the tests done on it, wondering when exactly she was going to actually get out of there and do what she was meant to be doing – things like being out in the thick of the action, completing her training, rescuing Han, confronting the Emperor. Of all the things that she was made for, being all but imprisoned in a room, being told not to do anything, not to move except for when the medical droid wanted to conduct tests on her mechanical hand and see how it was – that was not one of them.

It wasn’t easy, having an artificial limb. Still, it could have been a lot worse. It could have been like Terminus. Mara had looked up advances in medicine to see if there was anything that could be done to restore his limbs, internal organs, things such as that that had been horribly damaged in the Battle of Sullust, but as good as medicine was nowadays, she didn’t know if there was anything like that that could be done.

She wished there was a way. Besides defeating the Emperor, she wanted to make sure there was a way, any way at all, to truly make her father better. Padme leaving him to that fate as well – Padme had expressed regret over it, horrible regret, and Terminus had told her to run (from what Mara could gather from some of her father and Padme’s tellings of it, as well as Vader saying that Padme had confirmed that Terminus had told her to run and leave him behind at Sullust to avoid her being captured by the Emperor), but it was still unsettling to think about, especially considering how normally compassionate and gentle and warm Padme was.

Mara supposed that it did teach a lesson about the matter of goodness in people, and the darkness in people. There was always a bit of darkness in people, winding through them subtly. Whether they acted on it or not was really what made them heroes or tyrants.

Mara raised her hand – her flesh hand – and knocked on the door.

Yoda hobbled towards them then, and Mara was struck by how haggard he looked in that moment; it wasn’t just the fact that it seemed that even walking was more difficult for him than she had ever seen him, but how weary he looked.

“Mara?” he said. “Padme, Vader, Terminus…been some time, it has. Come in.”

 

Yoda’s hut was as it always was, warmly lit, almost reminding Mara of stepping inside the interior of a tree than anything else, a fire crackling in the fireplace, but even then, Mara felt almost as if a shadow had fallen over the hut, cloaking all of them. Yoda must have caught her worried looks over at him because he turned to look at her. “That face you make…look I so old to young eyes?”

“No,” Mara said. “Of course you don’t.” And that was true enough.  He was old without a doubt, that was true, but there was something in his eyes that was still very much Yoda when he was healthier, when she had last seen him. That sort of wisdom, that sort of faint trace of mischief.

“But I do!” Yoda coughed, and it was then that Mara was painfully reminded of how sick he really was. “Sick I have become. Old and weak.” Still, that old gleam of mischief and humor returned to his eyes, momentarily reminding Mara of the man he really was. “When nine hundred years old you reach, look as good you will not, hmmmm?”

Mara chuckled in spite of herself. “I certainly hope I do,” she said. For a moment, it seemed that a lot of their argument from when Mara had to leave Dagobah faded, and they were simply just talking. Had they simply talked? She hadn’t known much about Yoda, and there were still so many questions that she wanted to ask, questions that she probably wouldn’t be able to ask again.

Yoda chuckled also, and then headed towards his bed. “Soon, I will rest,” he said. “Forever sleep. Earned it, I have.”

“You can’t,” Mara said. “Master Yoda, you can’t die.” Even saying it out loud, she knew that it wasn’t going to change anything, but she had to deny something, anything, any reality of what was going to happen right here, right now. She couldn’t bear to even think of such a thing. The very idea that Master Yoda was going to die like this.

She couldn’t bear it.

“Strong am I with the Force,” Yoda said, and there was a tired sort of weight in his voice that Mara couldn’t say that she had heard before. It was the sort of weight in his voice that made her realize how old Yoda really was, and for that matter, how tired he really was. “But not that strong. Twilight is upon me, and soon, night must fall.”

Mara shook her head. “We can help you.”

“No, Mara. Beyond your help, some things are, and one of them, this is.” Yoda took a deep breath that already sounded like a death rattle. “That is the way of things – the way of the Force.”

“What about my training?” Mara said. “Can I ask about that?”

“No more training do you require,” Yoda said. “Already have that which you need.”

“I’m nowhere even near done,” Mara said. “Don’t be absurd. I’m hardly even close to done.”

“Expressed bravery and skill you have on Bespin. Saved you it did from Asajj Ventress.”

Mara laughed and shook her head. “I wasn’t that good, Master Yoda. I think it was mostly luck that saved me.”

“No, Mara. There is no such thing as luck. Only the Force there is. And the Force it was that saved you that day on Bespin, as did your loyalty. Only one thing left there is, for you, for Padme, for Vader, and Terminus.”

“Ventress,” Mara said, “And the Emperor himself.” Yoda didn’t have to say the rest. She already knew. She already knew from how ruthlessly Ventress hunted her, and how the Emperor kept showing up in her nightmares, his pale, sickly face and yellow eyes haunting her, him trying to sway her to his side like he had her father years ago.

“Yes,” Yoda said. “Confront them both you must. On this, all depends. Only then, a Jedi will you be. And remember, Mara – if underestimate the power of the Emperor you do, then suffer your father’s fate prior you will.”

“Master Yoda, I’ll kill him before I let him touch her,” Terminus said. “I promise.”

Padme spoke. “I won’t let him claim anyone else,” she said. “Whether they be killed or converted. And I’m not going to let him hurt Mara. If he does, then I’ll show him why the name ‘General Naberrie’ used to be feared by the Separatists.”

“And I won’t let him touch her either,” Vader said. “She’s…” He swallowed. “They’ve all become family to me, Master Yoda. The family that I never thought I’d have. And I’m not going to let the Emperor threaten that family. Or Mara. I’ve seen how terrible the Emperor can be, how vicious he can be, how persuasive – I’m not going to let him near her. If he does, I’m going to come up with things that make his torments that he devised for me, for Terminus and for Ventress look tame in comparison. I swear it.”

“Be wary,” Yoda said. “Anger, fear, aggression – ’’

“Yes,” Vader said. “I know. But I’m not going to let him hurt Mara. She has multiple people who will do anything to keep her safe, no matter what happens.”

Mara smiled at Terminus, Vader and Padme, her smile bright even in spite of herself. “I know.”

“You’re not going to face the Emperor by yourself,” Vader said. “No matter what happens, we’ll be at your side.”

“As will just about everyone,” Padme said. “No matter what happens. No matter what misery the Emperor decides to inflict upon us next, he will not go anywhere near you.”

“And if I fall?”

“Then we’ll be there to save you,” Terminus said. “As you, Padme and everyone saved me.”

Mara took a deep breath. “And I’m not going to let you down, Master Yoda,” she said. “Frankly, I don’t see why anyone would join the Emperor. Even if he fooled people enough into thinking that they could trust him, that he could save them – he’s ruined the galaxy. He’s shattered it. He’s devastated it. And we have to stop him. In fact, I don’t see how anyone with a functioning conscience can join him after what he’s done.”

“Persuasive,” Yoda said, “The Emperor can be.”

And that, Mara could not deny.

“Remember all you have learned,” Yoda said. “And…” He coughed then. “The last of the Jedi, you, Padme, Vader and Terminus are not. The first of the new, you will be…”

Yoda’s eyes closed then, and for a moment, Mara could swear that he wasn’t dead, but merely had fallen asleep. Perhaps in the end that was what dying was. Not painful and terrible, but a part of life just about as much as anything else, an easy slip into sleep. And beyond that, no one really knew. Some speculated that there was nothingness, some speculated otherwise. Mara only hoped that in the end, Master Yoda was at peace. Perhaps joining his old friends in the Order who had died as well.

It was then that before her eyes, Yoda’s body vanished, and Mara stared at it, puzzled, bewildered. She had heard stories about death, but none of them where the body disappeared. It wasn’t like when Dack was shot down, and there was nothing but his corpse beside her and the sickening knowledge that the Empire had shot him the way one would shoot at womprats in T-16s in Beggar’s Canyon back when Mara was a kid.

Next to her, Padme smiled. “It’s all right, Mara,” she said. “He’s gone home. He’s with the other Jedi, in the netherworld of the Force. And I daresay that it’s the most peaceful he’s been in quite some time.”

So in the end, there was life beyond death. Beyond that moment when illness, injury, or otherwise took you. Beyond that moment for Yoda when he had finally slept.

“So in the end, he is happy?” Mara said. In the end, perhaps that was the best comfort regarding Yoda that she could take. They didn’t even have a body so they could properly bury or cremate him – then again, perhaps it was better that way.

“He is,” Padme said. “After all, as he would say, luminous beings are we, not this crude matter.” She blinked then, and Mara put an arm around her shoulder as she began to weep – not all out sobbing, but crying quietly, and Mara closed her eyes, let herself cry silently as well, let herself share in Padme’s grief.


	9. Chapter Eight: Old Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a certain Jedi Master makes an appearance. Also, certain cameos from people from the PT era!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was one of my favorites to write. Writing Qui-Gon's cameo...well, it was just good to actually see him again. Dooku too. Even though Christopher Lee's passing, which happened months prior, made it hard for me to write.

By the time they headed outside Yoda’s hut, it was already raining hard. They took refuge under Mara’s X-wing then, and Mara saw that Padme was already weeping silently. Vader had an arm around her protectively; he hadn’t known Yoda as deeply as she had, of course, but he was more than willing to be there whenever he could. Artoo scooted up towards Padme’s feet, a somber dwoo escaping him. And Mara sat beside Terminus, putting a hand on his arm if only in the best moment of comfort that she had to give.

Terminus didn’t cry – the Sullust lava had put paid to that ability pretty well – but it was clear that he was in shock himself. Terminus wasn’t the sort of man to cry anyway, or scream or wail – whenever he did express his sorrow, it was usually quite stoic. He spoke of it, but it was all very subdued nonetheless. And Mara could feel more than sorrow, the guilt that was streaming from him, the sheer regret that he had let Master Yoda down back when he had first become Terminus.

“It’s all right,” Mara said, “He forgave you, you know. I felt it. He’s already forgiven you.” All that’s done’s forgiven, Father. Why can’t you see that? And meanwhile, Mara herself felt as if she’d been punched. Yoda was old, there was no denying that, but to think that she had been away from Dagobah and he had gotten sick –

I’m sorry, Master Yoda, I should have been here. And what was she going to do now? She had Padme and Vader and Terminus, of course, but nonetheless, she wasn’t even anywhere near prepared for what was going to happen. She didn’t know how to fight the Emperor, and she was still very much vulnerable. She wasn’t terrible, but she was still vulnerable. Going up against the Emperor in that state was going to be like going into the krayt dragon’s den without a glowstick.

“What are we going to do?” she finally said to Padme.

“Whatever we can.” Padme wiped her eyes. “We may not have Yoda with us at the moment, but he is with us, in spirit.”

“Spirit?” Mara said. “But that’s – ’’

“It is,” Padme said. “Mara – there’s someone I actually want to introduce you to. And for Terminus…I guess it’s a reintroduction. You haven’t seen him in a long time, but I have been speaking to him while I was on Tatooine. While I was looking after you.”  She turned towards the empty forest and spoke then. “Master…there’s someone I want you to meet.”

And it was then that the glowing, radiant figure stepped towards them – a tall man in old robes that almost reminded Mara of Padme’s robe, only more of an off white sort of color. The man himself was unkempt, but handsome nonetheless, with long brown hair and a beard. His eyes were kind ones, bright blue, open and warm, the sorts of eyes that held wisdom and humor and compassion in them all in one.

It was Terminus’ reaction that Mara didn’t quite expect. His voice actually seemed to tremble a bit, seeming almost childlike. “Qui-Gon? Master Qui-Gon?” He didn’t cry, but the tears were strong in his voice.

The spirit smiled broadly, warmly. “It’s been a long while, Obi-Wan.”

Terminus walked towards him, and Mara put a hand on his arm, trying to steady him. It was almost as if without support, he would probably fall over. Seeing him like this – she wasn’t used to this. It was terrifying, it was frightening. Terminus knelt, and Mara could almost imagine him doing the same as with the Emperor, but this was a different kind of kneeling. Not obedience, but a sort of repentance that he hadn’t quite done with someone who had meant so much to him.

“Master,” Terminus said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon said softly, “I forgive you. I’ve always forgiven you.” He looked over his old apprentice and Mara could almost imagine the way they were when her father had been no more than a teenager, still training a bit under this man.

“He trained you?” Mara said.

“Yes,” Terminus said. “When I was still a youngling, Yoda trained me. He was…good with the younglings.” A bit of affection entered his voice. “It was only when I was older that Qui-Gon took me on as a Padawan. He…died at Naboo. One of the Emperor’s old apprentices killed him.”

“It was far from a regrettable death,” Qui-Gon said. “To save Naboo, to protect you and Padme – I would have done what I could.” He grew more serious. “It’s only a pity that my death played into the Emperor’s hands. But I suppose in the end we were all his dejarik pieces one way or another.”

“I know I was.” Terminus took a deep breath. “I did…terrible things, Master. I never in all these years thought I would – ’’

“You were misled. I always was watching you,” Qui-Gon said, “Looking after you. What you did was terrible, but in the end, I doubt you would have done it if you weren’t misled.”

“Yes.” Terminus said. “I was misled. Everyone was misled. The Force can’t resurrect everyone I killed, but I can at least stop the Emperor.”

“And that’s what you’ve been doing,” Qui-Gon said. “You helped your daughter in the Death Star battle. You assisted in rescuing Han Solo. These deeds are far from insignificant, don’t you think?”

“No.” Even Terminus seemed surprised saying that. “I…I suppose not.”

“Of course not.” Qui-Gon’s smile could have chased away the darkness of Dagobah just then. “You’ve always been a good apprentice, Obi-Wan. And a good Jedi. Even when you went astray.”

“I tried,” Terminus said. “Master Yoda would say that there is no try, but I did try.” A slight chuckle. “Although I will say that both Ben and Mara have done everything that I could not.”

“You’ve done beautifully. As have they.” Qui-Gon turned towards Mara. “I have been watching you. You haven’t been able to see me, no doubt, but I’ve always been there. And you’ve done a wonderful job thus far. You, Ben, Ada, Padme, Sabe – you’ve been so very brave.”

“We’ve definitely tried, Master.” Padme’s smile was a sad one, and Mara could see the tears sparkling in her eyes – they were the brightest that Mara had seen them nonetheless. “It’s going to be a long battle up ahead, but we’re going to try.”

“I know,” Qui-Gon said. His face darkened for a moment in sorrow. “The Emperor – he’s already in the process of making another Death Star. The Bothans have gotten the plans but at…quite the cost.”

“They’re dead, aren’t they?” Mara said.

“Yes,” Qui-Gon said. “Some of them sacrificed themselves so the others could escape. That thing must be destroyed, Mara,” he said, “Not out of hate or revenge – ’’

“ – but for the sake of all life,” Mara said. “I know. And that’s what I’m planning to do.” She swallowed, remembering the terror and the remorse of the gunner as she had reached out to touch his mind on the Death Star. “I never wanted anyone to die,” she said. “I’ve never actually – I shot stormtroopers in self-defense, but I’ve never actually killed anyone before the Death Star. And I guess Ada would say that with Tarkin, it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy, but the others – I never wanted to kill them.”

“I know,” Qui-Gon said. “And that’s why the war has to come to an end. One of many reasons. There’s been too many deaths. My fellow Jedi, protesters, soldiers, civilians, enemy soldiers being forced to fight against those they might have called friend, brother, sister, mother, father, lover – there has been enough blood spilled in the name of the Empire, and enough spilled in the name of the Rebellion. And the Emperor has to be stopped as well.”

“That’s a no-brainer,” Mara said. “I mean…” She already felt a hard lump in her throat thinking about it, thinking about how many families the Emperor had torn apart through his actions, whether he killed them or not. Whether he chose to kill them, kill a member, recruit a member for the stormtroopers or the Imperial fleet or the Sith – he had torn too many families apart. Leia’s family. Mara’s family – at least Mara had found hers again, while Leia didn’t even have that; she’d never gotten the chance to see Bail and Breha Organa again, or say goodbye to them. Ada’s family. And those were just the tip of the iceberg. He’d destroyed planets, enslaved countless people and species…

And for what? What was the point of it all, any of it? There was no point, none of it. The Emperor was a sadistic monster, pure and simple.

“You hate him,” Qui-Gon said.

“You could say that,” Mara said. “After everything he did.”

“What he did was disgusting,” Qui-Gon said. “But be careful. There is a fine, delicate line between justice and revenge. Failing to distinguish between that line – at worst, you may fall to the Dark Side, at best you may become nothing more than a bitter reflection of the monsters you’re fighting against. Maintaining one’s moral code, one’s center, in times such as these is difficult and terrible, but in the end, it is worthwhile. To maintain one’s sense of mercy and compassion is doubly so.” He became more somber then. “Once upon a time, I strayed too close to the path of the Dark. There was a…woman that I cared for, who was stolen from me.”

“I’m sorry,” Mara said. She could only imagine the pain that Qui-Gon had suffered then – she remembered how Leia had been after Han had been taken away by Jabba, and to picture it turning to rage in this Jedi…she couldn’t picture this Jedi younger, but she could picture the shock coming over him, the pain of it that seemed to pierce through deeper than any lightsaber or any vibroblade. Being in love, from what Mara could see of Vader and Padme, could be beautiful, but it could also be a greater wound than anything physical could ever do.

“There is no need,” Qui-Gon said. “It was her influence, in the end, that kept me from following through with revenge on her killer. And you…you have solid allies. I doubt that they would ever let you fall, whether they be friends or family. Especially when two of them have seen the horrors of the Dark Side first hand.”

“Yes,” Terminus said. “I’ve seen what the Emperor could do. He…his words caught me, Master. I thought that I could make things right. Make things better.”

“The Emperor has deceived others wiser than you, and older than you,” Qui-Gon said. “He’s done this for years, at least as far as the spirits of his old victims have told me. Count Dooku, for example. It is fortunate that in the end he did redeem himself, but even so, it is terrible.” He closed his eyes.

“Was he…”

“He was my master,” Qui-Gon said. “And one of the most esteemed Knights in the Order. He was a frustrated man, that I have no doubts about, but he was a good Master and a good man. So the Emperor has seduced others before even your father.”

Even the thought of it was sickening. Mara could still remember how Lando had told her about how Ventress had basically threatened him to make him comply in her plan, but even that was hardly even the tip of the iceberg in terms of how the Emperor could make anyone do anything he asked, including things that most people would find unthinkable. Killing younglings. Killing innocents. Constructing a Death Star. Others had just joined for the benefit of causing destruction, but most of them had been tricked.  And the idea of somehow becoming like him along the road, slipping into the role of Sith too easily.

“Yeah.” Mara took a deep breath. “I’m not planning on becoming like him. The thought of it – it’s revolting. I don’t think I even need to explain why.”

“And you do have solid allies,” Qui-Gon said. “I doubt that they would ever let you fall. Especially after two of them have seen the horrors of the Dark Side firsthand.”

Vader stepped forward then. “You’re Qui-Gon Jinn?” he said. “I heard from Terminus that you were one of the best of the Order. Odd, but one of the best.”

Qui-Gon laughed. There was something about that laugh that Mara liked. It was a warm, hearty kind of laugh, the sort of laugh that was comforting and gentle and honest. The sort of laugh that would make you think of him not only as a Master, but as a dear friend, as Terminus no doubt thought about him once.

“Yes,” he said, “They did think of me as odd. I never quite got along with some of the Council members on certain matters – I can’t say that they approved. I believe that Obi-Wan once said that if I followed the Code, I’d be on the Council, but sometimes you have to put aside the Code and do what you feel is right.”

“I definitely understand that now, Master,” Terminus said. “I only wish I’d understood it sooner.”

“And yet you understand. Acknowledging where you’ve stumbled, and making reparations…that’s the first step towards redemption. And there is plenty of time to rebuild what we’ve lost. I can feel it.”

It was then that Mara was reminded of what Yoda had said while he was dying. But it couldn’t be, could it? Most of the Jedi were dead. Mara was one of the few left. Then again, she’d thought that Padme was the only one left of the Order before she met Yoda. Could it be…

“Master Yoda,” Mara said, “Said that Padme and I, and Kit – Vader and Terminus aren’t alone. That we aren’t the last of the Jedi, but the first of the new. What does he mean?”

Silence. Then, “Your companions are Force sensitive.”

“That’s not funny,” Mara said. Han, Force sensitive? Leia, Force sensitive? Ada, Force sensitive? That’s just not possible.

“I’m being completely serious,” Qui-Gon said. “The Force is strong in all of them. It’s up to you, and ultimately them, to tell if they will accept the path that they’ve chosen.”

“I’m not a teacher,” Mara said. “I’m barely even as good as Padme – ’’

“Arawn Sinn was hardly a Jedi Master when she trained her crew, and look how well it turned out for all of them,” Qui-Gon said. “And besides, you won’t be alone in this. Padme can help you. Vader can help you. Obi-Wan can help you. And I can help when I can.”

Mara swallowed. “I…I guess I’m just overwhelmed is all.” When I first started out, I was considered to be the last of the Jedi besides Padme. Now I’ve trained under Yoda, and now I’ve been told that I have a whole Order of people who might be trained in the future. “It’s…it’s a big responsibility. I’m barely done myself.”

“They’ll come to terms with it,” Qui-Gon said. “In time. Training adults is a difficult matter – Yoda was worried about that plenty with you. And in cases such as Revan, Atton Rand, and others – it was even more difficult, and unusual as well. It is the Emperor you must be wary of.”

“I figured that,” Mara said.

“The Emperor is a cunning being,” Qui-Gon said. “I met him when he was still a Senator, far before he ultimately manipulated the previous Chancellor’s failing reputation for his own benefit, and he seemed charming, well-spoken…he was good at making the others follow him. Getting them to trust him. If it wasn’t for that, and the cloud of the Dark Side that made detecting the culprit in our midst difficult, he would not have gotten as far as he did. There was a monster in him, but it was well-hidden. It’s in the midst of this war that the monster is truly coming to light.”

“Can we beat him?” Mara said.

“Those such as him can always be beaten,” Qui-Gon said. “He is powerful, and will test your will, your resolve more than even Ventress did on Bespin. Even now, he’s doing whatever he can to lure you to him.”

It was then that Mara felt it. Her mother’s presence, shooting through her painfully. The agony that she felt. It shot through her almost like the first crack that ultimately splintered glass. And Mara could hear her – she was screaming. To make those sounds come out of someone such as Sabe Naris, one of the strongest women that Mara had ever known…

“Mother…” Mara’s voice came out strained, pained, horrified. “Mother!”

And she could swear that she heard Sabe’s voice over their link. “Stop it…you must stop…”

And to make that sort of anguish come out of Sabe, to make that sort of anguish come out of her mother, one of the strongest women that Padme had ever known…already, she hated Ventress. Jedi did not hate, but after all Ventress had done to her friends and her family (and for what purpose? Petty cruelty? That had to be the reason. There had been times in the Force when Mara had thought that she felt something else, but it was quickly overshadowed by the fact that Ventress, plain and simple, loved to make people suffer. At least, there was a certain satisfaction in the suffering that she got out of them, enough to make Mara feel sick), hatred was too easy.

The pain passed, but Mara could still feel the aftershocks in her, and more than that, the rage that was starting to build. “I’ll kill Ventress,” she said, “I’ll kill her. I’ll make her regret the day she was born – ’’

“Mara,” Padme said softly, “Shhhh. Calm yourself. Remember the Code.”

“Right.” Mara took a deep breath. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.

And yet even laying it all out in front of her in her mind, Mara doubted she’d ever run into a bigger pack of lies. There were countless people in graves because of the Emperor. The galaxy was in chaos. All of it was because people had trusted the Rodian-In-Ewok-Clothing at face value. The second Death Star was about to repeat the horror of Alderaan, of the planet in pieces, of people screaming as they were obliterated, once again – simply because even if you could blow up evil, it didn’t keep it from coming back.

“I need to do something,” Mara said. “I need to save my mother. And everyone in this galaxy.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to try and train the others too – although I don’t know how much I can teach them. After that…” She didn’t know what came after that. After that, she might go back to Tatooine? After that, she’d rebuild the Order? After that, she’d get married and have a family like others on Tatooine did? She didn’t know how content she’d be with that last option.

“After that,” Mara said. “We’ll make things better.”

And that, in the end, was the best she could hope for.

“Good luck, Mara,” Qui-Gon said. “Padme, Obi-Wan, Vader, all of you. And may the Force be with you.”

“And with you,” Mara said.

“It was good to speak with you,” Terminus said.

Qui-Gon smiled. “And with you, Obi-Wan.”

***

The spirit of Qui-Gon Jinn lingered for quite a while, watching Mara Kenobi and the others leave for the battle. He knew that it was going to be a hard fight against the Emperor; after all, the Emperor was far from an easy opponent. He was a crafty one, a powerful one, a skilled one, and taking down his armies was going to be equally difficult. Taking down the Second Death Star as well – the first one had been bad enough, causing mass slaughter on a scale that one had not seen since the Mandalorian Wars, when the Jedi General Arawn Sinn, in desperation to win the war quickly, had set off the Mass Shadow Generator, or the Jedi Civil War, when Darth Malak had ordered the bombardment of Taris and Dantooine. And the idea that it could be used to obliterate planets in the blink of an eye had only been more horrifying, and heartrending to feel through the Force. Even as a spirit in the netherworld of the Force, Qui-Gon had still felt the screams of terror of those being obliterated on Alderaan, families huddling together in their last moments, trying to offer the other comfort as best they could, hardly anyone having time to evacuate.

He had felt it, and it had broken his heart. And to see Obi-Wan Kenobi, his kind if occasionally headstrong Padawan, as Darth Terminus, standing by and watching it happen – that had only hurt worse. There had been times that he had tried to reach Terminus during the earlier years of the Great Jedi Purge, mostly trying to sway him from the path that he was on, but Terminus had brushed all of it off as merely tricks of the mind, tricks of the imagination, and that had been painful to witness. Then again, his Padawan had been ready to eventually redeem himself, to understand what he was doing and return to the Light once more. He only needed the right person to show him the way. To save him. And in that case, they were “those people”. Padme, Sabe, Mara, Ben – they had saved Terminus in the end. He still went by the name Terminus, but as far as Qui-Gon knew, he was Obi-Wan again. The Dark Side had no hold over him, the Emperor no reign over him, the agony both physical and emotional had remained, but the emotional damage was finally being cleaned out, and the physical damage…

In time, they would find ways to heal the terrible wounds that his Padawan had suffered. The wounds to his internal organs, to his limbs, to his voice and tear ducts and plenty more – they would be reconstructed in time. After all, galactic medicine was already moving further along than Qui-Gon could see – Mara’s mechanical hand to replace the one that she lost on Bespin was far better than the usual crude prosthetic hand that one would see during the Clone Wars, or even in an earlier era back when Qui-Gon had lived. Technology, in the end, had come far. And the Force…nothing was impossible with the Force. It would take much energy, but in the end, nothing was impossible with the Force. Even healing such terrible injuries.

It was then that Tahl walked up towards him, and Qui-Gon smiled in her direction. It had been one of the things that he had been happy to see after all this time – the strong, funny woman that he had fallen for so long ago. He regretted that he had left Obi-Wan before he could watch Obi-Wan develop as a Knight, he regretted that he had to leave Padme behind so soon, when she was only fourteen years old as well. He regretted that he had to leave so many behind, including those on the Council and in the Order; he couldn’t say that he always agreed with them, but he had been fond of them. They had been much like his home.

But it had been wonderful seeing Tahl again all the same.

“They’ll be all right,” Tahl said. “I just know it. They’re tough.”

“That they are.”

“They may be.” Dooku’s voice was smooth even as he walked towards them, the former Jedi Master turned Sith Lord just as dignified as he had been in life. “The girl is reckless, however. Just about as bad as her father was when he was younger.”

Qui-Gon chuckled. “Some things don’t change throughout the generations, do they?”

“No,” Dooku said. “They don’t.” He looked thoughtful. “General Naberrie has changed, hasn’t she? The last I saw her, she was naïve, heavily believing in the Republic. I say she’s just as idealistic as ever, but she’s not quite the same woman she was.”

“Indeed.” There was plenty of sadness in her bearing, Qui-Gon noticed, but there was also gentleness, hope and strength – the same sort of strength that she had when she was only a fourteen-year-old handmaiden in training with the Queen. And he had had an opportunity to watch her do that. To become greater than she was. To learn the ways of the Living Force, and to become one with it, not as the Emperor had suggested in terms of manipulating the midichlorians to do one’s bidding – after all, one could not manipulate the midichlorians to resurrect the dead. One could fiddle with them, create certain changes, but they could not use them to resurrect the dead. The Force kept the ways of the dead, and it would do so even unto the ending of the galaxy itself – but in terms of selflessness, generosity, being mindful of a concept bigger than oneself.

The Emperor could never truly understand such a thing. Indeed, he saw only power for power’s sake, and he hoarded it as greedily as a Hutt would hoard their possessions. He hoarded it, and in the end, it would be one of many elements contributing to his downfall.

“You did the right thing in the end, Master,” Qui-Gon said. “You truly did.”

“Well, it is as your apprentice told you earlier,” Dooku said. “Sidious misled me. Although I suppose I should call him the Emperor now.” He sniffed imperiously. “He’s a disgrace to the very idea.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Tahl said. “I mean, what he’s done…but he’s not going to last forever. Not by a long shot. The Jedi always fight back. Even in the darkest times, they’ve always managed to hold the Sith back.”

“Then I hope that you are right about all of them,” Dooku said. “The Emperor is not a man to be underestimated, after all.”

“I think,” Qui-Gon said, “That the Emperor may yet underestimate them.” The Emperor was powerful, that could not be denied, but there was one important part that he was hardly aware of – his arrogance. His arrogance had left him careless when he had originally overseen construction of the First Death Star, as it had also when Tarkin had destroyed Alderaan and inadvertently driven many people to the Rebels’ side (creating one’s own enemies, increasing one’s own enemies, through their own cruelty). His arrogance would, in the end, be his undoing. And the fact that in the end, one lone candle could hold back the dark.

Love, courage, heroism – those things were more than candles.

They could ignite the stars.


	10. Chapter Nine: Suicide Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara and co. meet up with the rest of the fleet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Note: Sorry this is so late -- I've been busy studying for exams and such.

Mara’s ship and the others already headed towards Mon Calamari – according to Han’s message, that was where they were meeting next, on the medical frigate Home One, or Headquarters as it was now called. They’d set the hyperspace routes and were on their way, but unlike on the way to Dagobah, when they had passed the time in hyperspace with things like trivia, this trip was a quieter one, a more thoughtful one. Even looking out at hyperspace, the almost dizzying rays of it outside, Mara knew that already there was a lot to think about.

Yoda was gone. And Mara knew that even though he had passed onto the netherworld of the Force, it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. After all, she hadn’t known Yoda as much as she would have liked, but nonetheless, she had grown to be strangely fond of the Jedi Master, even with his views that she frequently disagreed with on occasion. He could be perplexing, and stubborn, but he could also be quite funny, and even have a softer aspect of him that shone through on occasion. In the end, she missed him. The best solace she had was that the ones that you cared about, the ones who taught you, never really left. They were always with you – you didn’t really see them until they came out in the open, but they were there for you nonetheless.

They were there for you no matter what happened, and that was the biggest comfort that anyone, actually, could have.

It was then that Mon Mothma’s voice came over the comm. “We have you on screen now. Please identify.”

“It’s Mara,” Mara said, “And Kitster, and Padme, and Terminus. Sorry that we’re late. We had some unfinished business to take care of.”

“You aren’t that late,” Mothma said. “In fact, we were just getting started. The others are gathered right now.”

They drew into the Home One, which was huge – indeed, Mara thought, one would almost assume it was like a giant shuttle, or a giant mechanical lake in space. There were multiple bulges around it, all quite large, and it seemed downright iridescent, even sparkling in the darkness of space, even next to the stars.

They drew in there, drew their shuttles in for a landing, and Mara got out, heading towards the group. Biggs was one of the first ones to greet her, giving her a friendly clap on the shoulder. “Hey, Mara! What kept you?”

“Had some unfinished business to take care of,” Mara said. “With an old friend.”

“Friend of yours?”

“Yeah. Dagobah.” Mara went somber then. Even thinking of Yoda was enough to still make something deep in her heart ache.

“What happened to them?”

“He…” Mara swallowed. “He died today.”

Biggs’ face became more somber. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Mara smiled weakly. “He was a good mentor. A bit quirky, but he was a good mentor.”

“He was,” Padme said from behind her.

Biggs guided her towards the others, who were talking amongst themselves, passing some time before the meeting began. Lando walked towards her and grinned. “Hey, Mara. Good to see you again.”

“Well, well, well,” Mara said, grinning back even as she saw the new cloak that Lando wore and the insignia on his chest, “Someone’s been made a general, hasn’t he? Congratulations!”

Lando laughed. “Well, someone,” and here, he grinned at Han. “Must have told the Alliance about my little maneuver at the Battle of Tanaab.”

“Like I said,” Han said, “I just told them that you were a crack pilot. I didn’t think that they were asking for volunteers to lead this crazy attack.”

“We’ve survived said crazy attacks before,” Mara said.

Han sighed. “Against a second Death Star? I’m not too optimistic.”

“We destroyed it last time,” Mara said. “And you helped, remember?”

Han laughed. “Kid, trust me, I just got back in the nick of time. Hyperspace routes can take a long time; it’s not just a matter of zapping from one destination to the next. I think the fact that I got there as early as I did was luck at most.”

No, Han. It’s because the Force was guiding you, even if you refused to acknowledge it. You tried to play the realist, the skeptic, the rational one, all while the incontrovertible proof was beating down your door, but you couldn’t outrun it forever. You have the seed of Force Sensitivity, Han – that incident on Jabba’s sail barge? That was your Force Sensitivity awakening; none of us knew it at the time is all. And whether you’re going to just wake up to it or not – I guess that’s really up to you in the end, isn’t it?

Mara didn’t say anything, of course. There was such a thing as breaking it to Han gently, and she doubted that there was a way to break it to Han gently. In fact, considering how much Han prided himself about not having the Force controlling his destiny, he would probably have a major crisis if Mara just dropped it on him. In fact, all of them would have a major crisis if Mara just dropped it on them. Mara wondered absently if this Arawn Sinn that Qui-Gon had mentioned earlier ever had to just sit down and talk to her future Jedi crewmates. “You’re Force sensitive. You can deny it all you want, but it’s there nonetheless. Now who’s up for Mon Calamari takeout?” Maybe Padme could talk her through it. What to say, what not to say, things like that. Maybe there was some Training Padawans For Beginners guide lying around that she could pick up, flip to the chapter about training newly discovered Force Sensitives, maybe “The Dos and Don’ts of Having the Force Sensitive Talk” and “What To Do When Your New Future Padawans Are At Least In Their Twenties And Thirties” –

Then again, if there had been a book called Training Padawans For Beginners, it could have smoothed over quite a few headaches that the Order appeared to have had.

No, that wasn’t fair. Even if you had a handy guidebook telling you things like how to point out the warning signs of manipulative Sith-Lords-In-Chancellor’s-Clothing so they wouldn’t lure your Padawan on a downward spiral that culminated in them turning on the Order, killing Jedi and members of the Trade Federation, getting in a duel with their significant other and things such as that, there’d still be guarantees that things wouldn’t have turned out as you expected. Especially when said Sith-Lord-In-Chancellor’s-Clothing happened to be incredibly good.

“Kid?” Han said. “Galaxy to Mara Kenobi – are you all right?”

Mara nodded. “Yeah. Listen, honestly – even if it was just luck, as you put it, that you got back when you did, you were the one who left me clear to take a shot at the Death Star. I mean, Lando, you…with everyone on our side that can help us, we can do anything, even stand up to another Death Star.”

Han sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “You know, I really hope you’re right,” he said. “But I don’t think that they’re going to make the same mistakes again. I mean, whoever they hired as the builders this time can’t be that stupid, can they – ’’

It was then that Mon Mothma stepped forward and all conversation ceased. Dressed in her light blue robes, Mothma herself made an incredible figure, imposing, stern, a natural leader. Mara could almost imagine her in the days of the Old Republic when Sabe had talked about her, meeting with her, and how well-spoken and charismatic she had been. Even when the Old Republic was now dissolved, she still maintained that sort of grace and dignity.

“The Emperor has made a critical error,” she said, “And the time for our attack has come.”

Finally. Mara could only hope that whatever data the Bothan spies had gathered – whatever they’d managed to perish for, actually – would help them in terms of taking down this new, menacing Death Star. The monster that had hung like a shadow over everyone’s minds ever since they got wind of the Emperor building it. A machine that would, in one single strike, completely obliterate a whole people, a whole culture, families, friends, leaving those who were left behind torn apart and grieving terribly.

Mothma continued, and Mara saw the holographic model of the Endor moon. “The data brought to us by the Bothan spies pinpoints the exact location of the Emperor’s new battlestation.”

“Endor?” Ada said. “But what would they even want from that planet? I mean, they can’t be using it for a future demonstration or something; Tarkin wanted a big show and that was why he chose Alderaan.”

“Maybe they were looking for a place to station,” Padme said. “Endor is very lush and green. There’s going to be plenty of places for the stormtroopers to hide, and not to mention, it’ll be easier to hide the base between all that lushness.”

“But they’d also have to deal with the Ewoks,” Kitster said.

Ada stared at him as if Kitster had said that cannoks were going to be the Empire’s biggest threat.

“Don’t underestimate them,” Kitster said. “I’ve heard the stories. People going missing on Endor never to be seen again…some say the Ewoks actually ate them.”

Ada shook her head. “All right, fine, there is that. I mean, the Ewoks do eat people.”

“I have no idea,” Mara said. “But we know where to find Mother now. Thank the stars.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” Kitster said. “You had an easier job breaking into the First Death Star; I don’t think that the Emperor’s going to make the same mistake twice, and neither is anyone in charge of the new Death Star.”

“True,” Mara said. “But we’re not going to try the same plan twice, are we?”

“Mara!” Wedge, this time, from behind her. “Be quiet. Mothma’s talking. This is important.”

“Right,” Mara said. “Sorry, Wedge. We got a bit excited.”

“It’s all right,” Wedge said. “But this is pretty important news. We need to know how we’re going to defeat the Emperor this time.”

Mothma continued, seeming completely unperturbed by Mara and the others’ chatter. If she had heard it, she gave no indication that she did. “…throughout the galaxy in a vain effort to engage us, it is relatively unprotected.”

“They left the Death Star unprotected?” Han sighed. “Well, you can chalk one up to the Emperor being that stupid.”

“But most important of all,” Mothma said, “We’ve learned that the Emperor himself is personally overseeing the final stages of the construction of this Death Star.”

Silence. Then the whole room broke out into excited chatter. Han shrugged. “Actually, chalk two up to the Emperor being that stupid.”

“I don’t like this,” Padme said.

Han sighed. “What would you like?”

“The Emperor’s making this too easy for us,” Padme said. “The last time that he did this, the last time that things played out like this, he managed to manipulate us almost perfectly. We fell right into their trap. He’s doing this again.”

“So you’re saying he’s being stupid on purpose?” Han said.

“What I’m saying,” Padme said, “Is that he’s leaving us to walk right into a trap. We’re open, vulnerable, and he’s counting on us taking the bait.”

Silence. Mara felt almost as if the bottom of her stomach had dropped out. Then again, Ventress had done the same – leaving things wide open for Mara, Padme, Vader and Terminus to walk right into her trap, though only Mara had really walked right into her trap in the end. Like the krayt dragon inviting its victim to walk right into its cave with the promise of slaying it, only to devour it.

“It’s a suicide mission,” Mara said.

“Basically,” Padme said.

“But we can’t just leave Mother,” Mara said. “And we can’t leave the Death Star undestroyed. What are we going to do?”

Padme took a deep breath. “Turn it back on him,” she said. “That’s what we can count on the best. That’s what we can do.”

Mothma, meanwhile, visibly upset at the Bothans’ deaths, had turned the presentation over to Admiral Ackbar. The former Mon Calamari slave to Grand Moff Tarkin (another reason that most would say that Tarkin had it coming) stepped over towards the holographic model of Endor and gestured towards it. “You can see this Death Star orbiting the forest moon of Endor,” he said in his raspy voice. “Although the weapon systems on this Death Star are not yet operational, the Death Star does have a strong defense mechanism. It is protected by an energy shield generated by the forest moon of Endor.”

“So that’s what they want the planet for,” Ada said. “A place to build the energy shield. Right under anyone’s noses, even the Ewoks.”

“I don’t know how under your nose you can get,” Mara said. “I mean, how could they miss anything that big?”

“The forest, maybe,” Ada said.

Meanwhile, the holographic model was perfectly illustrating Ackbar’s points even as he spoke, including the stretching mass that was supposed to represent the energy shield drawn from Endor. “The shield must be deactivated,” Ackbar said, and it was then that the holographic model changed to illustrate his point, “If any attack is to be attempted. Attacks will be futile otherwise.”

Han shrugged. “Well, I guess they learned something.”

Ackbar continued. “Once the shield is down, our fighters will create a perimeter while the fighters fly into the superstructure and attempt to knock out the main reactor.” Even as Ackbar spoke, the holographic model changed to reflect a scene that Mara had already participated in four years ago (to think that she was nearly twenty-three now, and when she’d started, she’d been nineteen years old) – a group of fighters flying through the tunnels of the Death Star and firing.

Han sighed. “Corellia’s moons, I was actually wrong about them learning from their mistakes. That’s the best news we could have.”

“Of course they wouldn’t,” Terminus said. “The Emperor is cunning and intelligent, but his arrogance thus far has severely hindered that. Including the design of the Death Star. Then again, that was far from the first time. I did try to warn him about patching up potential weaknesses, but he dismissed any idea of weaknesses. I believe he actually asked me what exactly a small X-wing could do to a space station such as the Death Star.”

“So that’s why an X-wing could get through so easily,” Mara said. “He really didn’t cover his bases, did he?”

“No, he didn’t,” Terminus said. “And that’s going to be his downfall.”

“The X-wing-accommodating hole in his seemingly flawless plan?” Mara said lightly.

“One could say that,” Terminus said.

“General Calrissian,” said Admiral Ackbar, “Has volunteered to lead the fighter attack.”

“Good luck,” Han said to him. “You’re going to need it.”

Mara nodded. “You’ll be brilliant, Lando,” she said, “I can feel it.”

“You definitely will,” Leia said. “I mean…you definitely bailed us out of a lot of trouble on Bespin. I don’t think I really thanked you for that.”

“No problem,” Lando said. “And don’t worry, I’ll do the best I can.” His face hardened. “Ventress already destroyed Yavin, and the Empire nearly took over Bespin. I’m going to be damned if I let the Empire come near any other part of the galaxy. Ever again.”

“As will I,” Leia said.

Ada nodded, and Mara nodded as well. She didn’t have to say anything. Indeed, she already knew what side she was on. She wasn’t going to let the Empire conquer any more planets. They’d done their share of burning, pillaging, bombing, things of that nature. She wasn’t going to let them do any more of that. Indeed, she would be damned if she let them do any more of that.

“General Madine,” Ackbar said, and the former Imperial soldier stepped forward, quieter in comparison to the others, but nonetheless with a certain prim dignity.

“We have stolen two small Imperial shuttles,” he said. “One is disguised as a cargo ship. A strike team will use that to land on the moon and deactivate the shield generator. The other will need no disguise, but the strike team will have to use various uniforms in order to get inside and rescue Sabe Naris.”

Mara raised her hand then. “I’d like in,” she said, “On the second one.”

Madine nodded. “Is your strike team assembled?”

“Not really,” Mara said. “I don’t have a command crew for the shuttle either – ’’

“I’ll go with you,” said Terminus.

“Are you sure?” Mara said. “If the Emperor finds you, if we’re caught – ’’

“It’s a risk that I’m willing to take,” Terminus said.

Padme turned towards Mara. “You can count me in as well,” she said.

“And me,” Kitster said.

Ben walked towards her then. “I’m with you as well,” he said. “We have to do whatever we can, or we may lose her forever.”

Mara swallowed. “Looks like we’ve got everything together.”

Han, meanwhile, was already assembling his strike team. Ada, Leia, Threepio, Chewie, Artoo, Owen, Beru…they were already joining the group. And even as Mara watched them, she had a funny feeling in her chest, almost as if she wasn’t going to see them again.

No, that was ridiculous. Why wouldn’t she see them again? They’d get through this, as they always did. When the going got tough, they always managed to survive it. Because they were Rebels. They may not have been invincible, but they were tougher than a drexl’s hide. They were legend, stang it.

And no matter what happened, they’d make it through.

And yet, deep down, in a place that Mara doubted she ever wanted to acknowledge, the place of ice cold carbon freezing chambers and the stinging winds of Bespin tugging at her clothing as she hung from the weathervane below Cloud City, Mara wondered if this was no more than empty bravado, and if she was ever going to see her friends again.

 


	11. Chapter Ten: Journey Into Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara and co.'s plan goes horribly pear-shaped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I am so sorry that I'm updating late, by the way -- let's say that school kind of broke me a bit.

It was in the hangar bay of Home One that they said their goodbyes.

Not too far away from Mara, Han and Lando were already arguing about who got to take the Millennium Falcon, and whether or not Lando was the right choice for the job. Han was already going on and on about the fact that Lando should take her, that he needed all the help that he could get, that the Falcon was the fastest ship in the fleet, things of that nature – also, Lando promising that he would get the Falcon back without so much as a scratch. Mara smiled faintly before turning towards Beru, who already seemed worried – it seemed as if she had aged a few years in that moment. And Mara wished there was some way, any way at all, to reassure Beru that everything was going to be all right. After all, it was, wasn’t it? They were going to get out of this alive, as they always did. No matter how bad things got, they got out alive. Even when things were at their lowest, such as when Han and Sabe were put in carbonite, they were alive. And they got Han out of carbonite – why not Sabe as well?

And yet there was something about Padme’s suggestion that they were being set up for a suicide mission that was enough to make Mara feel uneasy. Not in terms of outwitting the Emperor – they could do it. Why wouldn’t they be able to? – but in terms of anyone who could possibly get hurt. Plus the matter of getting past Ventress, and what the Emperor would do to them if they failed. Even the idea of becoming the Emperor’s servant, the Emperor’s puppet, was enough to make Mara’s skin crawl. No, not even that – becoming the Emperor’s slave was enough to make her skin crawl.

“Are you all right, Mara?” Beru said.

“I am,” Mara said. “You?”

“Fine,” Beru said. “Although I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t nervous.”

“About the mission?”

“About you,” Beru said. “As I’ve always been, Mara.”

“Mom…” Mara bit her lip. “Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”

“Maybe it will. But…you’ve heard the stories, Mara. How terrible the Emperor can be. What he can do. I don’t want that happening to you.”

“It won’t,” Mara said. “Frankly, if he tries to lay a hand on any one of you, I’ll kick his cargo hold all over the galaxy. Just you watch.”

Beru smiled, and Mara could not help but be relieved just to see her smiling in that moment. “That would be a sight to see. And I have no doubt that you’re going to be incredibly brave, Mara. You’ve always been incredibly brave, and you’ve had a lot of strength in you. And I’m proud of who you’ve grown up to be. I think anyone would be.”

In spite of herself, Mara smiled as well. “I’ve done my best,” she said.

“You’ve done beautifully. You’ve definitely had your share of scrapes, so to speak, but I think you’ve done beautifully. Just…be careful on this mission, Mara.”

“You too,” Mara said. “Bring your blaster – just in case you run into any stormtroopers. You’ve probably got the advantage here; most of them can’t hit the broad side of a bantha.”

Beru’s lips seemed to twitch. “I haven’t ruled that out,” she said. “I’m not much of a shooter, but I can do my best.”

“I think you could definitely give them quite a surprise,” Mara said. “I mean, nobody messes with Mom and lives to tell the tale.”

They both laughed. For a moment, the uncertainty of the situation seemed to dissipate, even though the way forward seemed about as uncertain as making their way through the krayt dragon’s den without a glowstick. Then, “Be careful, Mara,” Beru said, more seriously, “Like I said.”

“I will,” Mara said. “May the Force be with you.”

“And with you.” It was obvious that both Beru and Owen were trying to adjust to the fact that they would have to be believers in at least some way. But it didn’t make them any less proud of their adopted daughter.

Mara continued to say her goodbyes just then to everyone on the Endor strike team, exchanging hugs, hopes of being careful, tips, occasional jokes, and stepped back, allowing the others to say their goodbyes as well, watching them, and hoping that everything was going to turn out all right.

But then again, of course it would. The Emperor’s reign of terror was over. It should have been over long ago, actually. It was already coming to an end right now. Mara could feel it. This was the battle that would decide the fate of the galaxy, right here, right now, and it was guaranteed that the Emperor was finally going to be defeated.

Finally, the others joined her at the shuttle, and Mara turned to look at them. “You all right?” she said to Padme.

“I’m fine,” Padme said. “I admit I am scared for them. As I’ve always been.”

“I know,” Mara said. “I’ve been scared for them too.”

They stepped in the shuttle. It was a compact little thing, hardly able to carry a crew larger than six, but it would do, at least. Mara stepped in to sit at the cockpit just then, and Terminus looked as if he wanted to step to the front, but then reconsidered, going to the back instead. Padme took the co-pilot’s seat just then, Kitster and Terminus the seats just behind, Ben behind Terminus. They all – except for Terminus – had their uniforms on, and had done little adjustments to themselves, little things such as cutting and dyeing hair (it seemed that Mara had to dye her hair again, blond this time. If she didn’t have to go on one of those disguise missions, it probably would be too soon) and trying to make themselves at least not look recognizable from the likely WANTED posters the Empire had probably put up all over the galaxy regarding their various deeds.

“Right,” Mara said, “We have the code. We’re going to have to put our aliases in there as well – I’m not going to just go and announce that I’m Mara Jade. Vader, you’re going to have to choose a different alias; I have a feeling that ‘Kitster Stevens’ has probably gotten pretty notorious by now.”

Vader paused. Finally, he said, “Andre Starkiller.”

“All right,” Mara said, “Let’s go with that then. I’m going to go with Kara Brackett. Padme?”

Padme became silent for a moment before saying, “Satine Saris.” The way she said the first name of her alias, it seemed as if she had known a Satine, a long time ago.

“Right. So, Father,” Mara said, “And I am really sorry about this, but you’re probably going to have to hide yourself. The Emperor’s out for your head at the moment – ’’

“I suppose,” Terminus said, “Though all things considered, I don’t know how this,” and here he gestured to his armor, “Is good for hiding.”

“There’s probably some fresher you can use,” Padme said. “Assuming that this shuttle has one.”

Terminus chuckled. “That’s one thing that I never thought would become integral to our plan: does this shuttle have a fresher?”

The group of them chuckled before Mara said, “Well, honestly, who would look there? When the time’s right, we’ll find a way to signal you, Father. I promise.”

“I know,” Terminus said. “After all, I can’t say that Imperial scanning is known for its particularly meticulous attention to detail. To think that they couldn’t even have considered floor compartments in the Millennium Falcon…”

“Well, don’t be too hard on them,” Mara said. “I didn’t notice until Han told me.” She sighed. “All right, ready?”

“Ready,” Padme said.

Terminus got up then and stepped into the fresher on the shuttle, making sure to take his place in hiding before they struck. Mara and Padme powered up the shuttle then, and they blasted off.

It was later that they approached the Death Star that Mara could see it for the first time. The thing was massive – even in its construction stage, when it seemed that it was the farthest thing you could ever get from complete, it was still a menacing shadow against the stars. Meanwhile, multiple different shuttles, capital ships and more lined up at the Death Star, continuing to do their construction. Mara could only hope that they could convincingly bluff their way past the other soldiers.

It was then that a voice filtered over the comm. “We have you on screen now. Please identify.”

“Shuttle Revanchist,” Mara said, and she had a feeling what exactly the shuttle’s original owner, or namer, was trying to invoke by this name, “Requesting deactivation of the security deflector shield.”

“Shuttle Revanchist,” said the voice over the comm, “Transmit the clearance code for shield passage.”

Mara already caught the skeptical look in Ben’s eyes and she nodded reassuringly towards him before turning back towards the comm. “Transmission commencing,” she said, even as she transferred the code over to the other ship. She could only hope, after they bought the transmission, that they’d buy their cover story.

Still, it would work. Could work.

It was then that they drew closer and Mara felt Ventress’ presence – that same scorching hot Force presence that she had felt on Bespin, and she hoped that she could bluff her way past Ventress as well. Then again, they just had to act natural, fly casual.

In her mind, Mara heard Terminus’ voice again. In the time of the Old Republic, the former Sith assassin Jaq Noble, or Atton Rand, used to count pazaak cards and list hyperspace routes in his head. Use certain emotions.

How’s that going to help me? Mara said.

List off whatever useless information in your mind that you can. That may yet throw Ventress off.

Mara took a deep breath. Worth a shot. In her mind, she began listing certain bits of history that she’d learned back on school on Tatooine, various bad jokes that she’d heard on Tatooine and in the Rebel Alliance, various Ewok puns from Wes Janson, things of that nature, and though she didn’t know how well it was going to do against Ventress, it was at least calming her mind a bit.

 

***

It was inside the Executor that Asajj Ventress felt the other presences. There was the matter of Terminus, who had shielded his mind quite well, and Padme, and Mara Kenobi, but Vader had never been quite good at the matter of shielding his mind (it didn’t help that he wore his emotions on his sleeve quite prominently), and then there was the boy from Alderaan, Ben Organa, whose presence was already shining quite bright. It was the sort of presence that had not embraced his potential yet in terms of the Force, but would be great once he did. Yes, Ventress thought, truly great.

Outside, the Death Star itself loomed, still under construction but nonetheless, Ventress could feel how the Emperor thought that it would be the most powerful thing in the universe – which was ridiculous, truly. The ability to destroy planets in the blink of an eye was nothing next to the power of the Force, especially considering that it was the Force itself – and fate having a cruel sense of timing – that led to the First Death Star getting destroyed. The Emperor had gloated at length prior to this how the Rebellion would fall into his trap, how the Rebellion would soon be captured, how he had set up the Bothan spies (even the matter of their deaths), how Mara Kenobi and her other Force Sensitives would soon be his, but Ventress knew that, shield or no, the Emperor’s cunning plans or no, the Death Star would suffer the same fate as its predecessor – namely, it would be destroyed, thanks to one flaw in the construction that it seemed that the Emperor had refused to cover up. He hadn’t exactly told the construction workers to cover up that small detail of the opening to the main reactor that would be good at keeping out a larger ship, but would not be quite as good at keeping out an X-wing, or a snub fighter. Indeed, it would do the opposite. It would only make it easier for them to get in, and unless that was also part of the Emperor’s plan (Ventress could only assume that should he try and walk in a straight line, he’d actually get dizzy. That or find a way to turn even that into something complicated) there wasn’t a chance that it could possibly turn out in the Emperor’s favor in the end.

Of course, he had spoken previously of blowing up Endor should the Alliance get to the shield generator. And that…

Ventress already could not help but be repulsed at the thought. The thought of Vader on that moon – it was fortunate that he and Terminus were on the shuttle, at least. She didn’t know how she could quite handle the matter of them being destroyed along with the rest of the planet. And it wasn’t as if Ventress hadn’t done her share of abhorrent things over the course of her career as a Dark Jedi (Count Dooku said that she wasn’t Sith, which had always made her blood boil, and made her yearn to prove him wrong), such as murder and torture and razing cities, and plenty more that she supposed she just couldn’t recount off the top of her head, but blowing up planets…well, that was unnecessary. Completely. It was more of a testament to the Separatists’ hubris than anything else – and considering how it had been the Emperor who had given them the idea, planted that seed, it was a testament to his hubris as well.

She would do away with all of that, of course. When she found Mara and the others – Sabe Naris was frustratingly hard to break. No matter what instruments Ventress used, no matter what arguments Ventress used (reasonable arguments, even!) all Sabe Naris had to offer was talk of the Republic and democracy and fighting for freedom and so many other things…all she would give in the end was another Republic that neglected the people. And what of the Jedi Order, of course? They would be the same as they always were, as if Order 66 had never happened, as if every historical event they had gone through had never happened; they would have the same arrogance and callousness and self-righteousness that had made Ventress hate them – at least, it had been one of the deciding factors in Ventress hating them.

Sabe Naris was too much of a patriot – a sickly sweet, self-righteous, arrogant patriot. But the others would be more sensible. Vader, for example, and Terminus. Mara Kenobi and Ben Organa would be more difficult to crack, and substantially so, but the payoff would make the efforts all worthwhile. They would see what Ventress was trying to do, and just this once, just this once in their naïve lives, they would actually understand.

Yes, that was the key. To understand, to see, to truly see – that was what Ventress wanted. And perhaps them standing at her side – her masters had said that she was no Queen, but she was Queen…a Queen drenched in blood, blood that she had naturally earned. She would stand overlooking this galaxy with her new compatriots by her side.

Treachery was the way of the Sith, of course. But where would the Sith be if they didn’t have at least one apprentice to pass on their knowledge to before the latter betrayed them? More than one apprentice was usually foolishness, but in Ventress’ case, perhaps an order was needed. Soldiers to defend their kingdom, soldiers to serve their Queen.

And Vader and Terminus would, perhaps, be at her side. That was a possibility that Ventress hoped for. In the end, the Sith were not ones to make friends, to have close emotional attachment (only mercy was worse than love, Ventress had been taught) but the three of them were too much alike for their own good, and perhaps that was, in the end, how they had exactly ended up bonding as they did. Because in the end, they were very much alike in many ways. Broken, discarded, tossed aside by the galaxy. Betrayed. Abandoned. In our darkest hours, what did the Jedi ever do for us? Where were they?

Admiral Piett, meanwhile, spoke with the vessel that now tried to infiltrate them. “Shuttle Revanchist,” he said, “What is your cargo and destination?”

Shuttle Revanchist. When the shuttle had been named such, the one who had given the name was far from ignorant from the historical significance of that name. Darth Revan, the man who had led others to victory in the Mandalorian Wars, only to become Sith in the name of preventing a greater evil. In the end, Ventress supposed that was what she wanted to be. No more, no less. She was a woman who was fighting against a greater evil – two greater evils. The Emperor himself, who was mad with power, sadistic, cruel and very much a liar (how quickly she had been taken in by him when she was young! How foolish she was!), and the Rebellion, who would threaten to destroy all she had been planning simply because it was “for democracy”, “for the Republic” – they were fighting in the name of freedom, never mind that Ventress had no desire to repeat the Emperor’s mistakes in terms of how he treated his enemies (and many other things) and the government that some of them had originally come from, the Republic, long after the Emperor had disbanded it and created the Empire, had been corrupt and diseased. Naboo had been proof of it. How they had handled the clones had been proof of it. Some of their uses of torture had been proof of it. Their role in the war between the Kaleesh and the Huks was proof enough of that – the war that had ended up giving General Grievous the reputation as the author of the Separatists’ atrocities and a cruel, ruthless (if occasionally ridiculous and cowardly Ventress would admit) murderer. The Rebellion would only create a new government, a new corrupt one, and all they would be able to say was that it was for the sake of freedom, that it was a beautiful thing, and in time, others would start to believe that too, especially considering that there were many, Ventress found, who didn’t actually examine things, who simply refused to understand. Actually no. They didn’t comprehend. They looked, but they did not see. They heard, but they did not listen. And they could barely understand how bringing back the Republic would only lead to another cycle of corruption, and they would forget the lessons that the war had taught them.

No. Ventress would not create a weak Republic, nor a vicious, evil Empire. She would create a government that would truly address the problems that others had, that others frequently overlooked. That the Republic of old had not thought about, had actually hardly thought about it. Had they ever thought of sending Jedi, even before the Trade Federation conflict, to rescue Vader, then known as Anakin Skywalker? No, they had stalled. So the Emperor had found him. So the Emperor had raised him. So the Emperor had molded him into an assassin alongside Ventress. All because the Jedi had done nothing.

Guardians of peace and justice, compassionate – they are none of these things, and to the Corellian hells with them.

“Shuttle Revanchist,” said Piett, “What is your cargo and destination?”

Silence. Then the Kenobi girl’s voice filtered over the comm. “Parts and technical crew for the forest moon.”

Of course. The story could not be less convincing if one tried. Ventress already knew their ploy, and she would have none of it. It would get in the way of her plans.

“Shall I hold them?” said Piett. “Is something wrong, my lady?”

Ventress took a deep breath. “You and your men,” she said, “Ready the tractor beam.”

“We shall,” Piett said. “My lady. It is them, isn’t it? The Rebels we’ve been looking for.”

“Yes,” said Ventress. “We’ve found them.”

 

***

 

It was then that Mara felt the shuttle shake, and she knew that Ventress hadn’t gone for it. Even though she might have had some difficulty reading Mara’s thoughts, she had already detected Padme’s presence, and Terminus’, and Kitster’s. Force presences that couldn’t be completely hidden, as brilliant as they really were. And then she felt the shuttle being pulled towards the Executor, and she knew already what was happening. It was almost like an exact repeat, Mara thought, of the time when the First Death Star had caught Mara and the others in its tractor beam, and how they had to play along if only to save the others on the Death Star. Now, however, they had to fight back. Because they couldn’t get captured by Ventress. Jailed by her.

“We’re caught in a tractor beam!” Mara said.

Terminus exited the fresher just then. “I know,” he said. “I felt as much. I should have masked my Force presence as well. All of this – it feels too perfectly arranged, as if they knew that we were coming.”

Padme sighed. “So it is a suicide mission.”

The heaviness settled over them just then, and Mara already felt an icy chill for all of them, making their way past the deflector shield to the forest moon. She could only hope, in this moment, that they would all be fine.

Then again, Ventress seemed to let shuttle Tydirium (which was headed for the Endor moon and not the Death Star), from what Mara could feel , pass pretty easily. But then again, only Mara and the others were needed for Ventress’ plan. The others would be dealt with in time.

Mara wasn’t going to let Ventress “deal with them” in any way if she could help it.

“Can we use a shroud – ’’ Ben said.

“It’s no use,” Mara said. “We don’t have anything, Ben. We’re going to have to think up some sort of plan.”

Silence reigned among the crew of the Revanchist. Then Ben spoke. “I think we’re just going to have to play along. Later on, we’ll be able to escape however we can. The good news is that we’re already on the inside. From there, we can rescue Mother.”

“Yeah,” Mara said. “That’s a plus. And that’s what we’re going to do.” She turned towards Terminus. “Do you think you could get schematics of the place from the inside?”

“If I could get into one of the computers,” Terminus said, “Yes. Possibly. Although I do wish that we had brought Artoo with us. He is the best chance we have.”

“It looks like we’ll have to make do without him,” Mara said. “Just for the time being.”

They drew into the hangar then, and then came to a stop. It was quiet in that moment, far too quiet for Mara’s liking. A quiet like that was usually the sort of quiet that got resolved with something terrible happening. A foreshadowing of something terrible to come, at least. Mara knew that any minute now, Stormtroopers would be charging up the shuttle’s loading ramp to come and get them, or Ventress would make an appearance. Or, stars help them all, the Emperor.

Speaking of the Emperor, Mara couldn’t feel him. Mothma had said that he was overseeing the final stages of the construction of the Death Star, but she’d be damned if she knew if he was in this vicinity or not.

Stretch out a little further.

Mara reached out then, and it was there that she felt the Emperor himself, in the throne room of the Death Star, overseeing the galaxy almost like some sort of dark god, a physical embodiment of the Dark Side. And she shuddered at how cold he felt, almost like the freezing cold of Hoth, the stinging winds, the desolation that she felt on Dagobah. Ventress had been just as scorching as Tatooine’s heat, the Emperor was pure ice.

Fire and ice. Mara had heard that sort of cliché before, multiple times actually, but she couldn’t say that she’d ever experienced it in her life before now. Now she did, however, and she knew what was coming up ahead was going to be a difficult battle, more than difficult actually.

Beside her, Padme shuddered, and Terminus and Vader seemed just as unsettled. More than the matter of the Emperor’s freezing presence was the history that they shared with the Emperor – Mara had only seen flashes of the Emperor in her nightmares. Padme had been one of those manipulated by him, as had Vader and Terminus, and the latter two had to suffer many indignities at his hands. And Ben – though Mara didn’t know if Ben could feel him, she could practically feel the fear, revulsion and hatred flowing through him at seeing another replica of the machine that had ruthlessly destroyed Alderaan in the blink of an eye. His adoptive parents, his friends, perhaps old lovers and teachers and people he had grown up with – gone in the blink of an eye. An entire culture gone in the blink of an eye.

“Is he there?” Ben said. “The Emperor? And is Ventress there too? They both are, aren’t they?”

Mara nodded.

Ben took a deep breath. “These two,” Ben said, “Are going to see justice. Whether they see the inside of a courtroom or not, they’re going to get the justice that they’ve managed to evade for so long. So is everyone involved in the creation of that monstrosity, as well as the Empire’s many cruelties. When we get out of there, we’ll make sure of it, won’t we?”

“We will,” Mara said. It wasn’t something you saw often, Ben Organa actually getting this angry. But when it came to Alderaan, it was more than understandable. And what happened wasn’t going to be a matter of letting revenge or hate finally get to them, but for the sake of everyone in the galaxy, whether they be the people down on the Endor moon, the people staging their first attack on the Second Death Star, the people on different planets and moons and such who could yet be affected by the Second Death Star’s attacks – they were going to protect them. They weren’t going to let the Emperor destroy any more planets like Alderaan and Yavin, or threaten them like Bespin. They weren’t going to let the Emperor nearly hunt the Jedi to extinction again, or tear families apart, or torture anyone else, physically or psychologically. They weren’t going to let the Emperor destroy any more lives.

They weren’t going to let it happen. Not on their watch, not ever.

It was then that she felt a heated presence through the Force – Ventress’ presence. The eerie quiet, she supposed, was good while it lasted. And then she heard the faint sound of stormtroopers coming up the loading ramp.

“Ready to fight?” Mara said.

“Ready,” Ben said.

Padme, Terminus, Ben and Kitster merely nodded. And Mara knew that none of them would go down without a fight. Not in the least.

Mara, Terminus, Padme and Kitster drew their lightsabers, Ben drawing his blaster, set on “stun” as it always was – even to the end, Ben Organa had no desire to be a killer. It was something that Mara admired; she knew that she had her own regrets about killing. The First Death Star, for example. The idea of defeating your opponents without killing them, without adding more bloodshed to the roster – well, it wasn’t exactly a bad idea. Hardly anyone had thought of it before was all. And granted, they didn’t have much time to think when they had one enemy on their right and another on their left trying to kill them, but nonetheless, Mara wondered.

The stormtroopers headed towards them then. “We’ve got you,” one of them said. “Put your hands where we can see – ’’

Mara reached through the Force then and pushed, and the stormtrooper went flying from the shuttle. The blasters were out now, and Mara deflected the bolts, reaching through the Force to tell her where, exactly to deflect each blast. The way that her lightsaber deflected the various bolts flying towards her, they might as well have been particularly annoying flies. Beside her, Ben shot, stunning several of the stormtroopers that were continuing to shoot at them.

Padme, meanwhile, used the Force to push the stormtroopers back, and Terminus and Vader had almost no reservations – Vader fought with a sort of ferocity and fury that impressed Mara and also bewildered her. His lightsaber seemed to cut through stormtrooper armor all too easily. Terminus reached through the Force, choking his opponents, flinging them against the walls of the shuttle, things of that nature. The five of them were almost whirlwinds of power and movement and pure fury.

It was then that a blaster bolt hit Mara right in the shoulder. A stun bolt. She didn’t know how this one she’d been slow to deflect; the stormtrooper in question must have just been a lucky shot, or there had been some sort of hole in her technique that allowed the bullet to slip past. Either way, the last thing that Mara saw before blackness came over her were her four companions, shooting at the stormtroopers, slashing at them, using the Force against them, using everything that they had against them, just so they wouldn’t go down without a fight.


	12. Chapter Eleven: Her Father's Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara probably makes a deal with the devil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Sorry if my updates seem to be a bit infrequent on occasion -- I think I might have caught something over the holidays (unfortunately) and I've been trying to cope with it the best I can. (Plus, I may or may not be having a mental breakdown) Anyway, hope you like this update!

When Mara awoke, if one asked her where exactly she was, she would say, quite adamantly, that really, she didn’t have a clue where she was. The most that she could make out was the fact that at least the room she had wasn’t some drab prison cell; someone had taken some care to at least make her feel comfortable. Not Ventress’ usual style, which was enough to make Mara already worried – Ventress wasn’t exactly known for being hospitable, so whatever she had in store for Mara was worse than simply torture.

Turning, perhaps. Mara knew that if the nightmares she had were any indication, the Emperor wanted to turn her. The visions of the Emperor, sneering at her, ordering her to kneel before him, to join him, the vision in the cave where the Emperor’s body faded, only for him to turn into Mara before her eyes.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen. She was going to be damned before she joined Ventress. Ventress could do whatever she wanted, but she wasn’t going to even try to persuade Mara to join her side – the “right” side, as Ventress would probably call it.

The door opened then, and Ventress walked inside, tall, pale, cloaked in black, throwing back her hood if only to observe Mara. “It’s been some time,” Ventress said casually, almost as if the last time that Mara had seen her, she hadn’t tortured Mara’s friends, threatened Mara, and cut off her hand – the last one Mara could actually deal with, but she couldn’t deal with the fact that Ventress had tortured her friends, and was responsible for her mother’s current state of imprisonment, as well as Han’s previous state of imprisonment.

“Didn’t I tell you that I wasn’t going to join you?” Mara said.

“You did,” Ventress said, “But I don’t believe that we finished our business on Bespin, did we?”

“Not really, no.” Of course, Mara’s definition of unfinished business was far different than Ventress’. In Mara’s case, it was the fact that she still needed to kill Ventress. In Ventress’ case, it was the case of her actually trying to turn Mara to her side, which Mara wasn’t going to do. She’d be damned if she did it, actually. Ventress was a monster, a killer, the woman who had burned Yavin to the ground. “So where are my friends? Are you torturing them again?”

“No need to worry about that,” Ventress said calmly, “I have them confined, but they are far from being tortured. They’re only imprisoned for the sake of…convenience.”

Mara narrowed her eyes. “Convenience?”

“The Emperor’s been looking for you for quite some time,” Ventress said. “I believe he was quite furious the first time that you escaped Tatooine. With you destroying the First Death Star, his fury’s only grown. You’ve caused him trouble and humiliation that he hasn’t been quite accustomed to. And since I failed him at Bespin…”

It was then that Mara noticed the burn mark on Ventress’ face and in spite of herself, she couldn’t help but flinch – Ventress was a vicious schutta, there was no doubt about that, but the Emperor was far from a merciful Master. It couldn’t have been easy for Ventress at least.

Then again, life under the Emperor himself would be the furthest thing possible from easy.

“Did he do that?” Mara said.

“Of course he did!” Ventress said. “Who else did you expect?”

“It wasn’t a question,” Mara said. “He did that to you.”

“Yes,” Ventress said. Her voice went low then, a sort of fury in it that Mara doubted she had ever heard before. Ventress was usually composed, almost detached and smug, not the type who would actually show fury, but Mara could feel it smoking through the Force. Her already heated aura became almost scorching in nature, threatening to sear Mara’s flesh from her. Mara flinched in spite of herself. “He did this. This…creature, for I doubt I can call him a man, has besmirched everything that he promised that he would do. He promised security, he gave us all fear. He promised peace, and he gave us war.”

“You actually expected better from the Emperor?” Mara said. The more she heard about the Emperor once seeming charming and kind and well-intentioned and wanting what was best for the galaxy and things of that nature, the more it chilled her. It made her wonder if there was anyone who actually saw the warning signs, anyone who actually would say, “Yes, he was a creep even back then; I wondered if he was going to use a lightsaber to hack through my wall or something”. But it didn’t seem to be the case. He had flown under the radar completely. Even when he was slowly stripping away others’ freedoms one by one like Terminus was talking about.

“Yes,” Ventress said. “He did…save me, once upon a time. But I have served the wrong master. He cares nothing for the galaxy, for order, for doing what the Jedi could not. Everything exists to feed his power.”

“Then why don’t you do something?” Mara said. “Fight back against him. Kill him.”

“That’s what I’ve been planning to do,” Ventress said. “I’ve shielded my thoughts against him for quite some time.”

That was, Mara thought, admittedly genius. The fact that Ventress had been keeping up this façade for that long – that was definitely something, she would say that.

“After what you did, I’m not going to be letting you off easy.”

“That’s far from what I’m looking for,” Ventress said. “I have no desire for your mercy, or your self-righteousness for that matter. I have no desire for your forgiveness either. I only wonder if you’re going to assist me in taking down the Emperor.”

“If you really want to stop him,” Mara said, “Why not join us?”

“Because I,” Ventress said, “Have no desire to follow the Jedi. They’re corrupt, arrogant. You heard the tales from Yoda, from Padme, from Sabe and Obi-Wan, about how good and noble the Jedi were, but they were lies. The Jedi were frequently detached from those they swore to protect, careless of those who suffered – have you wondered how exactly Vader became the way he was?”

“No,” Mara said, “I don’t think he told me.”

“He was a slave,” Ventress said. “The Jedi didn’t come for him and try to help him, because of what significance was Tatooine, or for that matter, the slaves that lived there? None of the Council, none of them, made any effort to rescue young Anakin Skywalker from that wretched place, or the hold of Gardulla the Hutt, or later Watto. It was the Emperor who found him first. Later, he found me, and thus, we bonded. After all, we were both creatures the Jedi cared nothing for.”

Anakin. So that was his name. Vader hadn’t really told her his real name either – he’d referred to it as meaningless, as being left with him on Tatooine. Mara bit her lip. “I know the Jedi weren’t perfect,” she said, and even that was an understatement. How could they completely overlook the suffering of a child? Picturing it in her mind, a ragged child working for the Hutts, was enough to make her despise the Hutts all the more. “But I’m not one of them. None of us are. Padme isn’t either.”

“Of course not,” Ventress said. “You aren’t quite like the self-righteous Jedi who claimed to be above the rest while doing nothing for their people. You, after all, are much different. And that is admirable. I can’t say that I’ve had opponents of real worth in quite some time.”

Mara almost wished that Ventress hadn’t said that. She had liked it better when Ventress was straight-up just trying to kill her, instead of expressing this twisted kind of respect.

“You don’t have to follow the Jedi then,” Mara said. “Do it at least for Vader and for Father. They’ve missed you. They really have. They…” She sighed. “They love you. In a way, they really do.”

She didn’t know how effective it was going to be, straight up appealing to Ventress’ emotions. But she remembered Vader’s regret on Tatooine, when he’d first made his turn to the side of the Rebellion, and she wondered if, somewhere in that shriveled, blackened ruin that Ventress called a heart, if she felt something too.

“I know,” Ventress said. “I’ve felt it as well. Are you proposing that we are, in the end, neither Jedi nor Sith?”

“We could go that way,” Mara said. No one’s heroes, no one’s villains. There was something about that that was strangely invigorating. They didn’t have to rely on labels. They were beyond anyone else’s labels. “We can take down the Emperor and then…then we can make the galaxy how it ought to be. Not how the Jedi and Sith both screwed it up.” Even thinking about it was enough to make her taste acid. To think that the galaxy had ultimately been screwed up by this ridiculous religious war between the Jedi and the Sith, and both of their mistakes…

“Then,” Ventress said, “It is a deal. Killing the Emperor…that I can do. And what of you?”

Doing such a thing would be horrible. It would be unspeakably horrible, actually. The others would not forgive her for quite some time for allying with Ventress. Terminus was enough of a stretch for them, and Vader’s identity hadn’t even been revealed yet, but Ventress…

And yet, to save her mother, to save the galaxy, perhaps Ventress would have some part to play before all of this was over.

Mara sighed. “All right,” she said, “But I’m going to make a fine point of this – I am not joining you. I’m just up for taking down the Emperor however I can. However we all can. Call this more of an alliance. And if you try anything, you’re going to have a very intimate meeting with the Death Star reactor shaft, mark my words.”

“Fair enough. Then we’ll have to be allies,” Ventress said. “For the time being. It’s better than the alternative. The Emperor will surely torture you and your friends until they break. But if we can find a way to fool him – ’’

“Here’s hoping that we can,” Mara said. And that I haven’t just made a horrible, horrible mistake. In her mind, she could already see the vision in the Dagobah cave – the Emperor’s body dissolving, her body being in its place. Was that how she was going to make that horrible fate come to pass? Falling? Or even just allying with Ventress? Would even just a simple alliance make her take that terrible step off the edge towards the Dark Side, just like her father did?

She only hoped, at least in that sense, she was not going to become her father’s daughter.


	13. Chapter Twelve: Endor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Leia and co. find that trouble follows them on a regular basis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: I'm really sorry that I haven't updated in a couple of days or so, but let's say I was kind of kept busy. Also, banned from the Internet (call it for anxiety reasons. Yeah, I know). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. This was kind of a hard one to write, but...I hope you like it.

Endor was beautiful, that Leia couldn’t really deny, with its lush green trees and grass, but even so, there was something about the planet that was enough to make her feel uneasy. Even as they stood upon the hill, overlooking their surroundings below, there was something about it that was enough to make Leia wonder if they were going into a trap. After all, the Empire had let them through too easily, and even though Han had reassured her that it was going to work, that everything was going to be fine, Leia, to use a phrase that had become almost cliché by now, really did have a bad feeling about this.  
  
Artoo and Threepio were trailing behind them, the protocol droid saying, “Oh, I told you that it was dangerous here!” and rattling off different things that could happen to them on Endor (including being eaten by Ewoks, which Leia couldn’t really picture – after all, they were such tiny things. How could they possibly overcome them?), Lian, out of her usual wear for the moment and dressed in a Rebel Alliance uniform that was specifically medic’s gear, carrying her supplies at her side, trailing next to Han, who was still in his customary jacket (Leia wondered if he ever changed out of that jacket. If he even wore it while he was asleep. She hadn’t really shared a bed with Han in order to tell), Owen and Beru Lars, dressed in their usual Tatooine clothing, Luke in his Rebel Alliance uniform, seeming more agitated and anxious than usual, and Leia had a feeling that it wasn’t just the matter of the Endor mission, but something else.  
  
Not that she could blame him. After all, Mara and the others might as well have been flying into the mouth of a space slug without so much as a glowstick to find their way out. Or, as people on Tatooine said, entering the krayt dragon’s lair without a glowstick. Or, for that matter, a back-up plan.  
  
“Can you see anything?” Beru said.  
  
Leia pulled out her macrobinoculars then and peered into the valley below – there were two Imperial Scout Troopers down below. Their bike was parked there, but so far, it seemed that they weren’t really doing anything. They probably didn’t even know that Leia and the others were even there. Everything was too quiet for Leia’s tastes, and when things went that quiet, it usually meant that trouble was on the way.  
  
“Scout Troopers,” she said. “But it’s pretty quiet for the moment.”  
  
“Why don’t we just take them out right now?” Han said.  
  
Leia shook her head. “It’s reckless,” she said. “We should probably try and go around however we can.”  
  
“Even if we try going around them,” Han said, “They’re going to spot us. Might as well save them and us the trouble and take them out right now.”  
  
“We could sneak up on them,” Luke said. “Take them out without them knowing about us.”  
  
Leia sighed. “I just hope you know what you’re doing,” she said.  
  
“I do,” Han said, and sent her a quick, cocky smile that was enough to warm Leia in spite of everything. Before, she would have been irritated with it, but now – now, it was very much part of Han, that sort of cockiness and assurance that everything would work out in their favor, which he usually did. This was a part of the man she’d ended up falling in love with. An integral part of him. A man who could definitely be a genius, if perhaps a bit too cocky for his own good.  
  
Han darted through the bushes, careful not to make a sound, and hit one of the scouts over the head with the butt of his blaster rifle. One of the scouts shot at Han, only to fall quickly.  
  
Unfortunately, it seemed that their problems weren’t over, as more scouts flooded into the area. Leia sighed. “Oh, great. Look alive, everyone; we’ve got company!”  
  
“I see them.” Lian continued shooting at the scouts; she had a pretty good aim for a medic, Leia couldn’t help but think. Owen and Beru, meanwhile, were in a hand-to-hand fight with two other scouts, and Luke was shooting at another. Threepio seemed to be focusing on not getting hit, and Han was also in a hand-to-hand fight with one of the other scouts.  
  
“I think I see more of them!” Luke, this time, and he and Leia headed into the bushes, towards two other scouts on their speeder bikes.  
  
And two bikes for them to steal.  
  
Normally, one wouldn’t think of stealing a speeder bike as part of a typical day of theirs, but in the Alliance, it was. Stealing a speeder bike…well, it was just part of another skill you had to learn. Leia could only assume the bikes belonged to two of the troopers they had downed earlier.  
  
Leia leapt onto one of the bikes, and took off. Luke shouted in protest and later, Leia saw Luke drawing up towards her on a bike that he had stolen.  
  
“Sorry,” Leia said.  
  
“It’s all right.” Luke sighed. “You scared me for a moment. Quick, jam their comlinks, center switch!”  
  
“On it.” Leia flipped the center switch, and smiled – at least it would keep them from getting more backup. And even if they did – well, she had a feeling that the squad would be able to deal with that just fine.  
  
They continued through the forest then, and if not for the danger they were currently in, Leia would have marveled at how beautiful it really was. For now, they mostly had to avoid hitting the trees, which, while not Kashyyyk’s trees, were definitely impressive by themselves. They also had to make sure, at least, that their cannon fire didn’t accidentally roast any foliage, wild animals that happened to be lurking around Endor, any Ewoks, or anything like that. Friendly fire they didn’t have to worry about quite as much, as the squad was currently back there, dealing with the other scouts (and Leia regretted leaving them behind, but in order to get these scouts…), but Leia still knew she had to be careful.  
  
“Can you get a little closer?” Luke said.  
  
“I think I can.” This was working, at least – Leia fired at the bikes, and though they left only very shallow marks, it still worked. She pulled up alongside one of the bikes, and it seemed for a moment, they were too close – their bikes scraping together, the scout close enough to grab her. Luke fired at the scout, and the scout fell from his bike, his body seeming to disappear into the forest.  
  
Luke jumped from his old bike to the other, and even as they continued after the remaining scout, two more joined the chase.  
  
Leia sighed. _This keeps getting better and better._  
  
“I’ll take those two,” Luke said. “You go after the other guy. Don’t worry – I’ll catch up with you.”  
  
“Good luck, Luke,” she said, sending him a quick smile.  
  
He grinned back. “You too.”  
  
Leia continued after the scout, and it seemed that she was gaining on him, even though he was keeping up a pretty impressive speed. She couldn’t really see Luke very well, but from what she could see behind her, he was doing pretty well, shooting at the scout on his right side, sending him careening out of control. He was good, Leia was definitely going to say that. Pretty damn good, actually. Then again, for someone who was relatively new in terms of joining the Rebellion, he wasn’t a bad fighter, and he’d only gotten better as time had gone on.  
  
Meanwhile, she and the other scout were head to head. An idea struck Leia – if she attacked from above –  
  
She maneuvered her bike into the air, and began to fire. But the shot was shallow. _Damn! I was so close. Maybe if I move in a bit closer, hit him that way_ \--  
  
She was moving in closer, almost too close to her opponent, shooting at the scout’s bike, trying to disable it, only for the scout to reach down, grab his blaster, shoot at hers, and Leia knew that it wouldn’t take long before it slammed into the nearest tree. Before she was basically fried.  
  
Leia dove from the bike just in time as it exploded in a ball of fire.  
  
***  
  
To say that they were in a bad spot was an understatement. Luke and Leia were missing, probably in the middle of nowhere, Han and the others were in the middle of what was probably nowhere, and Han doubted that things could get any worse. He didn’t expect things to go this bad; it seemed that bad luck just followed them on a regular basis. Artoo was scanning the clearing, but no luck seemed to be coming.  
  
“Maybe we could search a bit further?” Owen said. “She’s probably stranded in another part of the forest – ’’  
  
“Mr. Lars, your guess is as good as mine.” Han rubbed his temples. “I was so stupid…”  
  
“Don’t blame yourself, Han,” Ada said. “We managed to get them.”  
  
“But we’re nowhere even slightly close to the base, and Leia’s…” Han sighed.  
  
It was then that Goldenrod spoke.  “Someone’s coming!”  
  
But it was only Luke. Han ran towards him. “Where’s Leia?”  
  
“We got separated,” Luke said. “I’m sorry – ’’  
  
“Look,” Ada said. “It’s all right. It happens.”  
  
“Thank you.” Luke sighed. “Let’s go look for her.”  
  
“Let’s,” Han said. He turned towards one of the Rebel officers, signaled. “Take the squad ahead. We’ll meet you at the shield generator at 0300.”  
  
The Rebel officer signaled back. “Copy, General Solo.”  
  
“Come on, Artoo,” Luke said, “We’ll need your scanners.”  
  
He was right. And Han hoped against hope that the scanners would find Leia in time. He loved this woman, and he’d already been separated from her once. He couldn’t do it again.  
  
“Don’t worry, Master Luke,” Goldenrod said, “We know what to do.”  
  
 _Yeah, here’s hoping, Goldenrod._  
  
Even as they continued into the forest, Goldenrod grumbled to Artoo, “And you said it was pretty here. Ugh!”  
  
Artoo beeped.  
  
“Yes, I know the foliage is quite beautiful, Artoo, but there is so much _danger_ about.”  
  
Another beep.  
  
“No, Artoo, I would not even consider it close to a viable vacation spot. Anyone who’d think otherwise would surely be out of their minds…”  
  
***  
When Leia came to, the most that she could gather was the fact that she was surrounded by green – by trees that seemed to reach up quite high (not as high as Kashyyyk, of course, from what Leia had heard, but still quite high) and foliage that seemed to surround her. And then there was the fact that there was a spear lightly prodding her. Poking her.  
  
“Cut it out.” Her voice came out as a mumble at first, just some irritation at this sudden poking sensation; she’d already fallen from the speeder, she didn’t need this. “Cut it out.”  
  
The creature poking her – an Ewok, small and furry, wary-looking – jolted away even as Leia stumbled to her feet – her head still felt as if it had split open. It hadn’t been hurt (thank the stars for helmets) but it still felt as if pain were ripping through it. Leia remembered the stories that she had heard about the Ewoks, how they could actually be very dangerous creatures, but this Ewok didn’t look dangerous, at least. In fact, he looked nervous…very nervous, actually.  
  
“I’m not going to hurt you,” she said softly.  
  
Looking further around, Leia could see the charred remains of her speeder bike from the earlier incident with the scouts. She sighed – her best method of transport out, and it was currently in ruins. _Looks like I’m stuck here. Problem is that I have no idea where “here” is._ For all intents and purposes, Leia might as well have been stuck in the middle of nowhere. _Welcome to nowhere, Leia, wherever nowhere may be._  
  
Still, maybe this Ewok could help her out. He was her best bet of getting out of here, after all. Out of this sort of “nowhere”.  
  
“Come on,” Leia said, sitting down and patting the space beside her on the log. “Sit down.”  
  
The Ewok growled – a small growl, watchful, anxious. It was clear that he was worried about Leia being…some sort of enemy, but Leia wasn’t wearing stormtrooper armor or anything of that nature, so what was there to be afraid of?  
  
“I promise,” Leia said, slowly and gently, “I won’t hurt you. Come here.”  
  
The Ewok shook his head, uttering more growls and squeaks. Leia sighed – well, these emergency rations had to be good for something, and Leia might as well use them.  
  
“You want something to eat?” She took out the emergency rations from her bag, held them out towards the Ewok. He took a step backward – Leia could only assume that the Ewok was a “he” – before tilting his head and moving towards Leia, chattering something that Leia couldn’t say that she understood. She wasn’t usually bad with languages, but here…well, she couldn’t say that she was quite sure in terms of what the Ewok was trying to say.  
  
“That’s right,” Leia said. “Come on. Hmmm?” _Looks like someone actually likes these emergency rations. They’re good for something other than just being a backup in bad situations – they can apparently break the ice between a human and an Ewok._ Everything seemed to be going all right, the Ewok sitting comfortably on the log beside Leia – at least before Leia took her helmet off; it was already sweltering on Endor, not as bad as Tatooine, but with that helmet, it felt hotter than it really was.  
  
The Ewok jolted away, skittering along the log, spear held out almost as if fearing an attack. Leia held the helmet out – the Ewok was pretty paranoid, she had to admit. Then again, she couldn’t say that the paranoia was entirely unjustified. All things considered.  
  
“Look, it’s a hat,” Leia said. “It’s not going to hurt you. Look.” She put the helmet back on again before taking it back off, just to demonstrate for the Ewok. The Ewok tilted his head before, reassured, moving back over towards Leia. Leia gave him a quick, affectionate smile. “You’re a jittery little thing, aren’t you?”  
  
The Ewok walked over just then before going to investigate the helmet, sniffing at it, anxiety replaced with curiosity. Leia felt the first tug of some sort of certainty – she and this Ewok were definitely going to get along pretty well on this bizarre world.  
  
It was then that the Ewok’s ears perked up and he began sniffing. He whispered something to Leia that she couldn’t say she understood but probably had something to do with scouts, or some sort of danger on Endor that Leia hadn’t learned about.  
“What is it?” she said. “Scouts? Planetary dangers?”  
  
Her question was answered for her when the blaster bolt came ricocheting at her, barely missing her and the Ewok. They dodged in time, the Ewok scampering under the log while Leia held out her blaster. Another shot rang out, and Leia dodged in time, only for the barrel of a blaster to press against her head, and she felt a chill go up her spine. The scouts had caught up with her – at least one of them did.  
  
“Freeze!” the scout said. “Come on, get up!” He held out his hand, and Leia handed over her weapon. She could play along, at least for now.  
  
A second scout emerged from the foliage – so that was the man who had shot at her and the Ewok. The first scout turned to him. “Go get your ride and take her back to base. The commander will want to speak with her.”  
  
 _Speak with me._ Leia could already see it in her mind – the interrogations that were to come, the possible torture, whoever was in charge of the base barking questions in her ear as she stubbornly refused to answer, even though it would have seemed sensible if she did just to make the pain stop. But Leia Organa did not fear pain. She feared failure, but not pain. Pain was something that could heal – physical pain, at least. The pain of failure never could.  
  
The second scout only nodded. “Yes, sir.”  
  
It was in that moment that Wicket emerged from under the log, hitting the first scout on the leg with his stick. The first scout jumped, uttered a curse, before going, “How the hell did you get – ’’  
  
The scout didn’t get to finish his sentence before Leia hit him with a branch, knocking him out before going for his laser pistol. She fired at the second scout, who was already taking off on his bike, causing his bike to hit the first bike, which flew end over end and exploded. And the second scout himself – his bike was currently charred, Leia could only assume, and he was nowhere in sight.  
  
It was quiet again. There were going to be more scouts, however, and it was best they got out of there while they still could. Leia turned to look at the Ewok, grinning. “You did great,” she said. “You really did. We make a good team, don’t we?”  
  
The Ewok chirped in agreement.  
  
It seemed, Leia thought, that she had made a new friend on this moon. Her speeder was wrecked, they were both still in danger from any scouts coming back, probably looking to see what happened to their friends, and he wasn’t too bad in a fight for a little guy. Then again, she thought, Ewoks were formidable creatures.  
  
“Come on,” she said, “Let’s get out of here.”  
  
The Ewok tugged at her hand, motioning to her to follow him. It was then that she heard something – a whole multitude of likely Ewok voices, and they didn’t seem happy. The Ewok with her tilted his head before tugging at Leia’s hand, motioning her towards the voices.  
  
***  
  
 _Out of the frying pan and into the kriffing fire. This day can’t get any worse._ Between getting separated from Leia, and now this, Han doubted there was a chance that this day could get any worse – then again, if the events of Bespin had taught him anything, it was that things could always, always, _always_ get worse. And once again, Han had to actually agree with Goldenrod, though he was not going to say it out loud – when Goldenrod had said “And you thought it was pretty here”, that had turned out to be quite the understatement, because between scouts, getting separated from Leia, and getting trapped and now ambushed by a whole tribe of irate Ewoks, the beauty of Endor was definitely deceiving.  
  
“Hand them your blaster,” Ada said. “You’re probably not helping your case looking like you want to shoot everything in sight.”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
Behind Han, Goldenrod spoke. “Oh my head! Oh my goodness!”  
  
And it was then that the Ewoks’ attention was diverted from Han and the others to Goldenrod and Artoo, and another Ewok stepped forward, holding Leia’s hand (she looked pretty messed up, but all right), gesturing towards Goldenrod (for some reason), and speaking in a language that Han couldn’t say he understood. Actually, it was anyone’s guess as to what they were saying – anyone who wasn’t Goldenrod, that is. The sounds of the almost Jawa-esque language were enough to make Han wonder exactly what the Ewok was saying. Whatever he was saying, the Ewok leader didn’t exactly seem to buy it – at least until they saw Goldenrod, who was already disoriented from the fall.  
  
Then things started to get weird.  
  
Very weird, actually.  
  
The Ewoks’ behavior changed from pointing spears at them to bowing and scraping before Goldenrod as if he were the Emperor himself. Actually, Han thought, that was frightening. He looked from Leia to Ada to the others, who looked as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing either.  
  
“What in the blazes – ’’ Owen began.  
  
“This is quite embarrassing, Master Lars,” said Threepio, “But it appears as if they think I am some sort of god.”  
  
“WHAT?!”  
  
The Ewoks swiveled their spears towards Owen just then, only for Threepio to hold up a hand. “I don’t believe that will be necessary,” he said.  
  
The Ewoks, after a while, lowered their spears, but Han could tell that they were still quite watchful of Owen. Meanwhile, Chewie chuckled, and Artoo let out some beeps that Han could only assume were laughter.  
  
“Okay,” Han said, “You’ve got the divine influence. Now get us out of this!”  
  
“I beg your pardon, General Solo, but that just wouldn’t be proper.”  
  
“Proper?!” _This is just getting better and better._ “Goldenrod – when somebody thinks you’re a god, just _go with it_!”  
  
“It’s against my programming to impersonate a deity.”  
  
Han sighed and shook his head.  
  
“Just play along,” Owen said. “You don’t even have to smite anybody. Just…tell them that we want to see their leader. And where Leia is. I mean, just think of it like…a temporary job or something.”  
  
Silence.  
  
“It feels immoral is all, Master Lars,” Threepio said. “And I doubt I would make a good god.”  
  
 _Definitely not. For one thing, you’d be waffling and buckling before you got anything done. Your worshippers could be going “Help me oh mighty Goldenrod, I’m about to get eaten by a rancor!” and you’d mostly be debating the “morality” of smiting said rancor, or trying to stop the rancor by asking why it would do that, how barbaric,  how can you not realize how rude it is to eat people. Thank the stars you’re not a god._  
  
“Like I said,” Owen said, “Just play along.”  
  
Threepio gave an electronic sigh. “Very well.” He turned towards the Ewoks and began communicating in their language. After a while, the leading Ewok made a noise of assent.  
  
Threepio turned towards them. “The leader of this pack, Teebo, tells us to follow him to his village – and keep ‘the heretic’ in line, lest he be sacrificed in a ceremony for…for me, actually.”  
  
Beat.  
  
“So this is how I’m going to die,” Owen muttered. “Sacrificed to my own protocol droid. At least, if there’s an afterlife, I have a feeling that Dad would at least have found it funny.”  
  
“Branded as a ‘heretic’?” Beru said wryly. “I’m impressed, Owen. You’ve built up quite the reputation since the both of us left Tatooine, don’t you think?”  
  
“They won’t sacrifice you as long as you don’t mouth off to Threepio _or_ this guy Teebo,” Ada said. “So keep the sarcasm to a minimum, Mr. Lars.”  
  
“Fair enough.” Owen arranged what was probably a straight face before following Han and the others off to meet the other Ewoks.  
  
There was something about the village that reminded Han almost of Kashyyyk, come to think of it, the walkway, the different homes in the trees – he was almost reminded of when he had brought Mara and the others to meet Malla for Life Day. Kashyyyk – it had definitely been the most home that he had ever known, besides the _Falcon_.  
  
The difference was that instead of towering furry creatures who were gentler than they looked (except, of course, when it came to dejarik. Chewie didn’t take losing well, so whenever they played the game, Han let himself lose on purpose, just to humor the Wookiee) they had little creatures that looked like teddy bears who were more than capable of killing them if they pleased and also mistook Goldenrod for some divine entity.  
  
Which was completely kriffing ridiculous, but Han was going to keep his mouth shut for now. He preferred not to end up as the Ewoks’ dinner. _Or being sacrificed to Goldenrod. This would just be payback for all the times I made fun of him, wouldn’t it?_  
  
The village square was an open place that looked almost cozy, where various other Ewoks, including mothers with their woklings, gathered around to observe the new arrivals – and their new god. Some of them even bowed to Goldenrod, mimicking that motion that Han had seen earlier.  
  
 _Don’t laugh. For the love of the stars and the galaxies unexplored, do not kriffing laugh. Being an Ewok’s dinner is not funny. Others being an Ewok’s dinner is not funny. So don’t. Kriffing. Laugh. Otherwise it’s game over._  
  
One of the Ewoks, a sinister-looking fellow wearing a hat that looked like it was made out of some creature’s skull, emerged from the hut, surveying the new arrivals with a critical eye before bowing to Goldenrod once again. Goldenrod communicated in the same, strange Ewok language that Han wished he understood in that moment. He wasn’t terrible at languages, but he couldn’t say that Ewokese was his strong suit.  
  
Goldenrod turned towards them and said, “This is the medicine man of the tribe, Chief Logray. He welcomes us into the village.”  
  
“Good to meet you,” Han said, and Goldenrod presumably translated again. Logray spoke, and though Han couldn’t say what exactly he said, it sounded questioning. Goldenrod spoke again, probably something to do with the Empire. Logray spoke again, and Goldenrod turned towards them.  
  
“He says that he shall lead us to Chief Chirpa, if only because…I command it.” Goldenrod sounded as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Oh my…this is wrong. This is terribly wrong – ’’  
  
Luckily, the Ewok who’d been with Leia spoke up as well, probably relaying…whatever happened that allowed him and Leia to get in this situation. Logray paused and spoke rather firmly towards the Ewok.  
  
They headed towards Chief Chirpa just then, a more benevolent-looking Ewok – Han decided he trusted this guy more than Logray. He wasn’t going to say it aloud, but something about the guy just seemed plain shady. Like he was tricking everybody. Tricking them into thinking that he was the good guy in all this. Then again, maybe Han had just been around too many people (and aliens) like that. You had to be more than a bit cynical as a smuggler, after all, just to make it through.  
  
Chirpa just seemed delighted to meet Goldenrod, at least judging by the excited sounds he made. Goldenrod turned towards Han and the others. “He says that he’s…very interested in hearing our tale. I suppose we should go in then.”  
  
So far, it seemed that they had battled stormtroopers, dealt with Goldenrod being mistaken for a god (which actually rhymed, come to think of it) and now they spent some time with the same beings who had, earlier, wanted to kill them. Han was safe in saying that they had had a pretty weird day. The good news was that at least they had some shelter before they went out to destroy the shield generator, which wouldn’t exactly be the easiest of tasks. Indeed, it would be a pretty hard one. Han could feel it. After all, there was the matter of actually getting past all these stormtroopers, and that was easy, but getting past Imperial soldiers? That was a bit harder, and that was an understatement.  
  
They sat, for a meantime, contentedly around the hut – which Han had to admit was pretty cozy –even as Goldenrod reenacted their adventures in the Ewoks’ language, and Han had to give Goldenrod some credit – he didn’t do a bad job. That was something that Han didn’t think he’d ever do – admit when Goldenrod was actually good at something. He was probably getting soft in his old age.  
  
Then again, Han was only nearly thirty-three, and he probably wasn’t that old. Maybe it was just the course of the journey that was making him more tolerant towards Goldenrod. Like he’d been cooped up with him so long that Goldenrod’s habits didn’t grate on him as much as they used to.  
  
Goldenrod continued on with his telling of the tale, including things such as their escape from Tatooine, finding Alderaan in pieces – and he had to grip Leia’s hand just then if only for the sake of reassuring her, as she had that look on her face just remembering it. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for her. It was one thing to see the aftermath of it (and Han had always known that the Empire was nasty, especially in terms of how they treated nonhumans and come to think about it, just about everyone); it was another thing when that planet actually happened to be your home. Ada, meanwhile, squeezed her eyes shut; for Ada, it was no doubt even worse. She’d been on the deck of that Death Star, she’d seen it destroy Alderaan in one single blast. She had seen the horrors firsthand, along with just about everyone else on the captured _Tantive IV_.  
  
Next to Ada, Beru gently squeezed her hand in a gesture of comfort. Ada turned to look at her, smiled a bit, if weakly. That was good, at least. Beru Lars, after all, was one of the people who was really good at holding their motley crew together. Han was the pilot, the person who got you where you needed to be, but Beru, Sabe, Padme, Mara, Leia – they made sure that the crew stuck together and didn’t decide to jump ship the first chance they got. In the end, Han thought, they wouldn’t have gotten this far if not for them.  
The Ewoks themselves, meanwhile, seemed to be just as appalled at how Threepio portrayed Alderaan – not exactly that they thought it was tasteless, necessarily, but they were shocked at how anyone could be capable of such cruelty. Then again, from what Han had heard, the whole galaxy had been shocked as well. It was an instance that no amount of damage control could actually deal with properly. It was an instance that had, in an attempt to keep other planets in line, only driven people over to the side of the Rebellion just to get justice for the people who were – let’s not sugarcoat any of this – murdered, and horribly at that.  
  
Threepio continued on with his tale, going on about their escape from the Death Star itself – which already got the Ewoks excited, judging by the wide-eyed looks from the Ewok cubs and more – as well as their encounter with Terminus.  
  
It was strange how mistrustful Han had been of Terminus – not without good reason, of course, but Han hadn’t expected him to become a strange sort of comrade-in-arms. He hadn’t expected them to be…well, even in a sort of circle of friends. Then again, Han couldn’t say that he expected any of this. There was still so much that he hadn’t expected. When he’d set off from the Imperial Academy after being disgusted with their practices, he’d taken Chewie with him, and he’d met up with people like Lando (who, before this, was his other close friend aside from Chewie), but he hadn’t expected to actually become friends with anyone else. He hadn’t expected to become friends with Mara. He hadn’t expected to become friends with Kitster. He hadn’t expected to become friends with Ada, or Luke, or anyone else for that matter, or to fall in love – actually, honest to stars fall in love – with Leia. There was a lot he hadn’t expected. _And to think that it all started because Padme and Sabe and Mara needed some safe transport to Alderaan. Good thing you took them up on that offer, Solo._  
  
But the Ewoks had definitely been surprised there. Indeed, they were already chittering about Terminus ultimately deciding to lend his assistance in the Battle of Yavin, to actually try and atone for his crimes. They’d been used to seeing Terminus as the boogeyman, the thing of nightmares. They hadn’t actually been used to seeing him as human, not necessarily. As someone trying to atone for what he did. Han couldn’t say he blamed them. It hadn’t been something that immediately crossed his mind, he knew that much.  
  
“He’s not all bad,” Han said. “Bit weird, but not all bad.”  
  
Now the Ewoks seemed curious.  
  
“I think Padme and Mara must have knocked some sense into him,” he said. “Of course, he said that he wasn’t happy with the Emperor for a while now. Can’t exactly say I blame him.”  
  
Even as Threepio translated what he said, the Ewoks definitely seemed curious, even a bit tense, but settled in for more of the story – he supposed they were just interested in how the story would end in terms of what was happening so far. Threepio talked about Yavin, and even as he went over it, Han felt the old anger and grief well up inside him again. Leia squeezed his hand, and Han could tell that she was still grieving too. The thing about Yavin, seeing it burning, seeing others cut down ruthlessly – the pain didn’t really go away. It just became less raw over time. You got better at dealing with it. Han couldn’t say he quite knew that – when it came to him and grief, he mostly tried focusing on just keeping on moving, to keep fighting. Now, however, he couldn’t say that that was always an option.  
  
Grief never really went away. You dealt with it, but it wasn’t as simple as just “releasing into the Force” or something as Padme occasionally talked about. How could you even release something into the Force anyway? Did you just confess and it was some sort of purging thing? And then after that, you never felt something along those lines again? No, it didn’t work that way. Han knew that he still remembered Yavin burning, and though he knew that any planet chosen for the Rebel base would hardly be safe from the Empire’s scrutiny (because as long as they were still living or the Empire was still standing, the Empire wouldn’t stop until they were caught or imprisoned or turned or dead. They’d never stop, they’d never so much as slow down. They’d keep coming), it didn’t make it any easier.  
  
And watching their expressions, it was clear that the Ewoks themselves were just as stricken by this as Han and the others were – the Alliance, in a strange way, had become home to all of them. He, Mara, Ada, Ben, Leia, Kitster, Terminus, Padme, Sabe – all the damaged, displaced, lonely people had found a place there. Lian, Beru and Owen as well, and Lando – people who had been stricken by the Empire and wanted revenge, or at least some way to keep it from happening to anyone else.  
The Alliance was their home. In a strange way, it had become home for Han as well. A secondary home; the Wookiees would always be his first home, but the Alliance was like a home in and of itself. It was like that for everyone – all the refugees and damaged, displaced souls looking for a purpose – they’d found refuge there.  
  
Logray seemed watchful just then, only for Chirpa to hold up a paw and encourage Goldenrod to continue. The Ewoks at least seemed won over by his recounting of the Battle of Hoth and their own escape to Bespin, as well as their capture, and Han’s own rescue, and now…this. They definitely seemed won over by that. Some of them even seemed outraged by the fact that the Empire had interrogated them. And Han couldn’t blame them. He didn’t blame Lando – not really. But he did blame Ventress. And he knew that there were people waiting in a long line to kill Ventress.  
  
He could only hope that Mara and the others were all right. Then again, maybe there was nothing to worry about. After all, Mara was more than capable…  
  
But the thing was that he had grown to care about her. He hadn’t expected that, but she had become almost like a sister to him. The sister that he didn’t have. And the thought of her being in trouble…  
  
If he was able to, he would go up to that Death Star and save her and the others right now. But unfortunately, it seemed that he had a job to do. And there wasn’t much of a way he could contact her and make sure she was all right without likely blowing her cover.  
Waiting was the hardest part. Yes, it definitely was.  
  
Even as the Ewoks conferred, Leia turned towards Han. “Are you all right?” she said.  
  
“Sure.” Han tried to give her a cocky smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
Leia sighed. “Han,” she said gently, “Don’t give me that. You looked troubled – I could see it.”  
  
“Am I really that obvious?”  
  
“You were at that moment.” A slight smile, which was enough to loosen something a bit in him. Finally, he spoke. “I’ve just got a funny feeling – like Mara’s in trouble.”  
  
Leia squeezed his hand. “We’re all scared for her,” she said.  
  
Owen and Beru nodded. “We’ve been scared for her ever since Padme dropped her off,” Owen said. “So you’re not alone on that one. I just hope that she’s all right.”  
  
Han swallowed. His moment of dread on Shuttle Tydirium had been one thing, that sudden chill that was beyond the ordinary “bad feeling about this”, that was just being outright _unsettled_ – but this…he actually worried if Mara was going to make it through.  
Then again, why wouldn’t she? She made it through before.  
  
It was then that the Ewok council turned back towards them, and the Chief said something – some sort of pronouncement. And drums. Han could only hope that this was something good, and not a case of them being about to be dinner.  
The Ewoks screeched in glee, and Goldenrod spoke. “Wonderful! We are now part of the tribe!”  
  
Han felt even more bewildered than he’d already been. Still, he couldn’t say he minded – even as the Ewok that Leia had been with embraced his leg, and the Ewoks embraced the other Rebels, he supposed that short help was better than no help at all. And they needed all the help they could get – to help Mara and the others, and to destroy that shield generator.  
  
“The Chief says,” Goldenrod said, “That he has no love for the Empire either, and has been looking for whatever help he can get in order to defy them. He says his scouts will show us the quickest way to the location of the shield generator.”  
  
“Good,” Han said, “How far is it? And we’re going to need some fresh supplies as well.”  
  
And all that aside, they were now adopted by the tribe that was trying to kill them – which was, to put it mildly, pretty surreal. But they had help, and they could actually find the shield generator as opposed to just blundering around in the forest – and help was definitely a step up from blundering. And perhaps they could find a way to help Mara and the others as well. So far, Han thought, things were going better than he expected.


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Prophecies Yet To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ventress' plan starts coming into motion, and shocking revelations (to the characters) unfold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Note: Hope everyone has a very merry Christmas eve! I've mostly been watching some Christmas movies, baking cookies, finishing up shopping, etc. Also, later today, my family and I are seeing the Peanuts movie, which should be fun!

It was later on – Mara didn’t know if it was dawn or not; did it make much of a difference in space? It was mostly a planetary construct; in space, that was all thrown out – that they went to see her mother. It took a long walk down the corridors before they stopped at one locked firmly shut, and Ventress waved her hand, opening the door without any effort.  
  
Sabe looked up at her, and she looked tired, horribly so, but as far as Mara knew, Ventress hadn’t tortured her. This time, at least. Not that it counted for much. Just because they were in a temporary alliance didn’t mean that Mara was going to forgive her everything. Some things were just out of the question. And the look –  
  
Mara had to look away for most of the walk out of the cell, long after Ventress had told Sabe that it was time to leave, that they had an important task to fulfill. She couldn’t bear it. The look on her mother’s face was something that Mara never wanted to see. The look of shock on her face, the look of betrayal. And already, Mara felt the doubt in her stomach that had been building ever since she’d made that deal with Ventress start to spread – maybe it was necessary, but did she have to do it still? The very thought of it was revolting. Allying with the woman who had tortured her friends, taken Bespin hostage, things of that nature. And yet it seemed that in order to defeat the Emperor, they needed to find a common ally. _I could have just told Ventress to take a walk outside without a spacesuit, but I just couldn’t do that, could I? Dammit, Mara…_  
  
“Mara,” Sabe said, and Mara heard the tremble in her voice, the sort of thing that was obviously _please, please don’t let my daughter have done what I think she just did,_ “What have you _done_?”  
  
“Mother,” Mara said, “It’s a temporary alliance. If there’s anything that we both share, it’s that we both despise the Emperor, albeit for different reasons.”  
  
“I understood that much from Ventress,” Sabe said, “But why ally with this… _filth_?”  
  
Ventress’ eyes narrowed then. “To you, perhaps,” she said.  
  
Mara spoke. “I don’t like it any more than you do,” she said. “But I think we need all the help we can get.”  
  
 _And then what? When this is all over, we’ll have to fight each other?_ Mara knew that it would probably be the case. After all, Ventress had gone back on her deal – Lando had told Mara, when he recounted the whole, horrible tale of Bespin, that Ventress had been too willing to promise him one thing and then decide to change her mind and threaten Bespin just to make Lando agree to that. Hell, Bespin had been the only thing that had made Lando do what he did – Lando was as loyal to Han as one could get, and it had been the threat of his people, the people who he swore to protect, being in danger that made him betray Han.  
  
Mara couldn’t say she liked it, but she felt sorry for Lando nonetheless when she heard it. Not to mention, Lando had turned around and massively redeemed himself in terms of helping them save Han, as well as hatching that plan to get Leia and company off Bespin. That wasn’t the mark of a man who was just a traitor through and through. Lando was, in the end, a good man. It had been Ventress’ fault overall that things had turned out as they did, because she was trying to get to Mara, and to Vader, and to Terminus.  
  
“And,” Mara said, in a lower voice, “I guess I should talk with you outside of Ventress’ hearing range.”  
  
“Right,” Sabe said.  
  
They walked off to the side then, and Mara finally spoke. “She actually told me what the Emperor did to her,” she said, “And why she wanted to stop him. And I hate to say it but…she’s kind of making sense.”  
  
“The Sith can make sense when they want to,” Sabe said. “At least so Padme told me. But I know it because the Chancellor himself was a Sith, and he sounded sensible at first. And look where all of that led.”  
  
“I know that,” Mara said, “But the thing is…I could feel something from her when we were talking. And I saw that…lightsaber scar on her cheek when the Emperor punished her for Bespin. Not to mention that she said that she served the wrong Master, and I believe that she’s telling the truth. I felt it, in the Force.”  
  
“I don’t doubt it,” Sabe said, “But how is it you know that she’s not going to turn on you next?”  
  
“If she does,” Mara said, “I’ll be ready to duel her. Trust me, Mother.”  
  
Sabe took a deep breath. “That’s good to hear. And if she tries anything, anything at all, I’m going to invite her to take a little walk in the vacuum of space.”  
  
Mara nodded. “Nice to see that we agree on one thing.”  
  
They walked back to Ventress, and the Dark Jedi raised an eyebrow. “You’ve worked some things out, then?”  
  
“We did,” Mara said. “Don’t try anything, don’t try and stab us in the back, or I swear to the Force, we’re throwing you out the Death Star. Or down the reactor shaft. Wherever’s more convenient. Got it?”  
  
“Fair enough,” Ventress said. “I wasn’t thinking of stabbing you in the back. After all, where’s the fun in ruling over an Empire if I, say, didn’t have Vader or your father by my side? Or you, for that matter?”  
  
Mara bit her lip. “I don’t think I want that either.”  
  
“You’ll come around,” Ventress said. “You’ll see.”  
  
Mara took a deep breath. Already, this was getting more awkward than she wanted it to be, and bringing up more questions and worries that she didn’t want to know the answers to. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get going.”  
  
“As you wish,” Ventress said, calmly, and they got moving.  
  
The rest of the walk towards the throne room, including taking the turbolift, was initially silent, and Mara could already feel the tension, the awkwardness that came over the group of them. She could already tell how much Ben disapproved of her allying with Ventress, the unease that he had, and though she could understand why (Ventress, after all, had tortured him and many others), Ben didn’t understand the concept of having to ally with an enemy just to make a plan come together. Then again, would it come together? And how would Mara know that Ventress wouldn’t just stab them in the back when everything was said and done? After all, allying with Vader and Terminus was one thing; the two had redeemed themselves. Ventress – well, her status could best be described as uncertain. Not really an enemy at the moment, but not exactly an ally either. And then there was the matter of what she’d said about having Mara by her side, or Terminus, or Vader…  
  
Had that been what that vision in the cave was talking about? Her taking the Emperor’s place as a Sith? Then again, if that had been the vision, one would have thought that Ventress would have been there too. The Emperor had merely been there because of Mara worrying about her own destiny, and how she would do in terms of facing the Emperor. Not to mention the nightmares. The dark energy in the cave worked probably like nightmares did – feeding off every worry that the current visitor to the cave was feeling and morphing it into more concrete images that the visitor could understand and fear all the more.  
  
Then again, that had been when Mara had actually swung the lightsaber – that was when the Emperor’s image had morphed into Mara’s face, Mara’s visage. That had been when it had changed. Had it been a warning then – don’t kill the Emperor?  
  
But how could she not kill the Emperor? She’d have to anyway, at least at some point.  
  
Mara sighed. The more she tried to analyze the vision in her mind, the more she already felt stuck. She knew she should have at least asked Yoda about it – there were too many questions that she should have asked Yoda before he died. And that had been another downside of rushing off to face Ventress too early; Mara had no idea what was in for her. If she was going to take the Emperor’s place or not. If she was going to become the monster that she had fought for so long.  
  
No. She wouldn’t. Not by a long shot.  
  
“Troubled, are you?” Ventress said.  
  
Mara was silent.  
“Don’t give me that look,” Ventress said, “I felt your emotions streaming off you quite strongly. You might as well have been wearing a Holonet banner announcing them.”  
“Guess I didn’t put up my shields well,” Mara said.  
“You worry too much about Jedi dogma,” Ventress said. “They were obsolete fools, and they deserve to be obsolete.”  
“Easy for you to say,” Mara said. “Your master killed them.”  
  
“That is true,” Ventress said. “Nonetheless, they were obsolete, and so is their dogma. If we are to move forward with this, we’ll have to dispel with that pseudo-pacifist nonsense. If you pardon me there, General Naberrie.”  
  
Padme said nothing, but Mara could sense that she was quite irritated. She turned towards Ventress. “What’s wrong with pacifism, anyway?”  
  
“Where does it get you in a battle?” Ventress said. “Your enemies aren’t going to show you mercy. Indeed, it would be laughable if they did.”  
  
“There are alternatives to violence – ’’  
  
Ventress laughed – it was a raspy, cutting sort of laugh. “General Naberrie has rubbed off too much on you. If somebody tries to kill you, you kill them. It’s common sense, isn’t it? Or is it guilt that’s driven you to this point?”  
  
“That,” Mara said, “Is none of your kriffing business.”  
  
“It streams off you in the Force,” Ventress said. “You regret the Death Star’s destruction, don’t you? I didn’t think that others would – then again, you are too filled with compassion for your own good, Mara Kenobi.”  
  
“Compassion’s essential to a Jedi’s life. And to a soldier’s,” Mara said. “It keeps us from losing our humanity. Which is easy to do.”  
  
“Compassion only weakens you,” Ventress said. “The Emperor would not show you compassion, so why would you show it to him?”  
  
Mara sighed. “I’m not a fool,” she said, “In case you’re asking. And we can probably have this debate later.” _Assuming you don’t stab me in the back._  
  
So that was what the Sith thought. There was no room for compassion, no room for humanity (she’d say no room for friendship, but Vader, Terminus and Ventress seemed to have formed a bizarre bond. Then again, Vader and Terminus weren’t truly Sith), no room for anything except power. And they thought of the Jedi as weak for that. Small-minded. Petty. Foolish. Never mind that it wasn’t the case at all – not with the Jedi that Mara had seen. Was there any sort of middle-ground between the extremes?  
  
Maybe she’d find a way to find it, after this was all over. Assuming she actually survived.  
  
Ventress merely nodded. “Fair enough.”  
  
The silence resumed as they stepped out of the turbolift and continued towards the throne room.  
  
Mara couldn’t say she knew what to think of that. If Ventress was being sincere, or if she was mocking her. Or tricking her. Ventress herself was a riddle that even the idea of solving was fascinating and yet enough to make Mara know that the answer would be something she’d be better off not knowing. At least Mara could sense that she was being sincere about the matter of despising the Emperor. There was that.  
  
Sabe’s disapproval still stung, but Mara supposed that she could understand – after all, things were going bad, and the fact that her daughter was allying themselves with the same woman who had put her and Han in carbonite only made things worse. As well as tried to break her. Mara could still remember the pain that her mother had been in all but screaming through the Force, and even if they were temporary allies in this, she wasn’t ready to forgive Ventress for what she had done to her mother.  
  
It was at the outside of the throne room that a man, with a clearly solemn, serious face, stood there in an Imperial uniform. “Lady Ventress,” he said, “What exactly are you doing? The Emperor doesn’t wish to be disturbed – ’’  
  
He was cut off then by Ventress reaching through the Force and choking him. Even through his face almost turning blue, the man choked out, “It is – the Emperor’s – command – ’’  
  
Mara turned towards Ventress. “Let him go.”  
  
“Why?” Ventress said.  
  
“I think I’ve found a better way.” Mara waved her hand, putting the weight of the Force into her voice. “You will let us see the Emperor.”  
  
“I – will let you see the Emperor,” the man choked out.  
  
Ventress released him, and it was clear that she was surprised – she hadn’t been expecting that solution. Mara waved her hand and continued. “You may let us go on our way.”  
  
“I will let you go on your way,” the man gasped.  
  
“You will not bother us again,” Mara said.  
  
“I will not bother you again.” The man stepped away from them.  
  
Ventress turned to look at her, and it was clear that she was impressed. “All without killing him. I’m impressed.”  
  
“We don’t need to kill him,” Mara said. “All we need to do is see the Emperor.” She could only hope that she could defeat the Emperor without that terrible vision coming to pass.  
  
It was walking into the throne room then that Mara felt what she had felt in the hangar of the Executor once more – a sudden chill, about as bad as the stinging winds of Hoth coming over her. Worse than that, there was a simple emptiness to it – darkness in the Force, blackness, evil, cruelty, all-consuming, sucking her in, as the Emperor had beckoned to her in her dreams. She shivered in spite of herself; she didn’t show it, but she already felt the prickles go up her skin.  
  
“Are you frightened, Kenobi?” Ventress said.  
  
“You wish,” Mara said. But in truth, the feeling of this presence, while not enough to frighten her, was enough to unsettle her. She could feel how cold and empty and simply evil this presence was, blacker than a gap between galaxies, than a night without stars, and it was enough to make her shiver. Still, she couldn’t afford to be afraid. She had to be brave. Maybe she could pretend to be scared to make it all part of the act that she was pulling off – and she still couldn’t believe that she was doing all of this, all of it, she had probably finally gone insane – but inside, she couldn’t be scared.  
  
She had to be strong.  
  
 _There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force._ A pack of lies, yeah, but a comforting pack of lies nonetheless.  
  
They continued to step forward, and it was upon the throne that the Emperor turned to meet them. It was hard to discern his features in the dim light of the throne room, but there was something about them that was almost reptilian in nature. Those cold sickly yellow eyes against that pale and sickly skin, the wrinkled face under the hood of his robe…he was almost like a reptile in human form.  
  
Even when he spoke, smiling in a way that already made Mara’s skin crawl, it sounded almost slithery. “Welcome, young Kenobi. I have been expecting you. And General Naberrie.” His smile turned something that Mara could only assume was trying to be amiable, but again, was quite skin-crawling instead. “It has been some time since I last saw you. Decades, actually. How is Master Yoda – lives he still?”  
  
Mara stiffened, and she felt Ventress’ reproachful glare on her – all part of the show, of course, but in a way, she didn’t even have to pretend to be angry. She could very well play the part of defiant captive to the hilt, because that was exactly what she felt like, even though she had done all of this willingly. Just the way he had slipped into mocking Yoda like that was enough to make her wish that she could take her lightsaber and strike him where he stood.  
  
But not yet. She’d have to wait, of course. She’d have to wait for the right time. Surprise would be their weapon.  
  
Padme was remarkably composed, all things considered. “Chancellor – or should I say Emperor. It’s been some time as well. Though I can’t say that I approve of how things have gone.”  
  
“You did not join me, did you?” said the Emperor. “I suppose in a way, Dooku was right about one thing; you were too locked in Jedi dogma to think differently. You, _General_ Naberrie, have cost me two very valuable servants – what lies did you tell Terminus in order to turn him to your side?”  
  
“She told no lies,” Terminus said. “I was always intending to betray you.” A hint of smugness entered his voice, and Mara could tell that Terminus was heavily enjoying this – she couldn’t help but smirk. “Bet you didn’t see that one coming, did you, _My Lord?_ All your powers of foresight, and you couldn’t foresee the fact that an apprentice you lied to and mistreated could actually grow a spine and turn away from you. Granted, he didn’t think of joining the Rebellion, but nonetheless…”  
  
“She brainwashed you.”  
  
“And so the Hutt calls the other ‘greedy’,” Terminus said. “You’ve done nothing but brainwash others ever since you came into power as a Sith Lord. What you did to Ventress, to Vader – if there are Corellian hells, I have a feeling they’ll have a special punishment for you, especially in terms of what you did in regards to Alderaan and other places. You’re losing, my Lord.”  
  
“No.” The Emperor’s voice practically swelled with fury, and his eyes were flashing. “You wretched, traitorous fool  -- you defiler of the Sith Order… _you_ will lose. When your fleet is in pieces and Endor is burning, you will watch. You will watch every one of those people you befriended be torn to pieces or fall to my side, and you will watch as this new battlestation, this new, fully operational battlestation, destroys every planet that ever assisted you. Hoth, Kashyyyk, Endor – they will all be destroyed. Every last wretched planet that ever assisted the Rebellion and these two traitors to the Empire I built, the Empire I maintained, will perish in fire. And perhaps you can watch.” The Emperor’s smile could have looked less menacing on a particularly hungry krayt dragon looking for food and spotting a particularly tasty morsel. “You can watch as your friends die. You can watch as they fall to flames, fall to fire, fall to the superior might of the Imperial fleet.”  
  
“The battlestation doesn’t even work,” said Vader. “You’re wasting your time, Your Majesty.”  
  
The Emperor turned towards Vader then. “Oh, Lord Vader. You have no idea. But I suppose I won’t spare myself the pleasure of having you watch when the inevitable happens.”  
  
Silence reigned throughout the room. All the while, Mara listened in confusion – what was the Emperor even talking about? The Death Star was barely even finished. Wasn’t the Emperor there, after all, to overlook its final stages? Unless…  
  
Had the Bothans been fed false information?  
  
Mara didn’t know. She did know, however, that this situation was getting worse by the minute. The best she could do was run over bits of trivia, bits of useless information (including bad jokes that she’d heard in Rogue Squadron) to keep her going. _An Ewok, a krayt dragon and a Tusken Raider walk into a bar…_  
  
It wasn’t much, but it could protect her mind as best she could against the Emperor. And her basic sanity.  
  
“And you, Lord Vader.” The Emperor’s fury was almost palpable, as palpable as a storm beginning to brew, and it was a testament to some self-restraint or at least some love of just pontificating that he didn’t strike Vader dead right then and there, or at least torture him. Then again, he wasn’t interested in that just yet, Mara could only suppose. It was fortunate that the “not yet” factor came into the equation. “I am disappointed in you. Incredibly so. You betrayed everything that the Sith ever stood for, you cost me a valuable servant, and cost me plenty more servants. You’ve killed my men, _your_ men.”  
  
“I know,” Vader said, and Mara was struck by just how _broken_ Vader sounded in that moment. He sounded almost as he must have sounded before when he was still under the Emperor’s thrall. Not his own man, not truly, not his own being, but the Emperor’s slave. The slave that he had been born into, if Ventress’ tale was any indication. “I never wanted to do it. But I had to. For – for Padme.”  
  
“ ‘For Padme’,” the Emperor said, and his voice was filled with the utmost disdain, the utmost venom and acid. It was the sort that would make the lava on Sullust seem almost mild in comparison. “How very touching. You _cared_ for her, did you?”  
  
Vader nodded. “I did, Your Majesty. I thought I could help her. And I thought…”  
  
“You _thought_?” The Emperor laughed. “You did not love her. There is no love amongst the Sith, you know that much. There is passion, desire, possession, but love itself is an illusion. It’s no more than a fairytale that the more optimistic types talk about, the sorts that others believe can conquer even the greatest empires, _ignite the stars_ , as they say. But they are delusional. The light defeating darkness – that’s another fairytale, perhaps one that others tell themselves to get through their day without screaming too much. That the Jedi cling to in order to survive. To keep from giving up in despair.”  
  
“I don’t believe that!” Vader said.  
  
“Of course you don’t,” said the Emperor. “You always did think in fairytales. All turning out well in the end. It was one of those ways you were never truly Sith, because you believed too much in those things. Such falsehoods would ruin you.”  
  
“Well, you got us,” Mara said wryly. “I think we all do, _Your Majesty_.” And it was here that she made sure that the emphasis on “Your Majesty” was particularly acidic, because she knew more than anything that the Emperor did not deserve his title. The Republic, after all, was never meant to be an Empire. She had a feeling that what the Emperor had done, what he would continue to do in the future if they failed to defeat him, was why the Republic hadn’t become an Empire – at least, the Emperor’s version of it. “We’re all believers. I don’t think that we would have gotten this far if we weren’t?”  
  
“Are you now?”  
  
The Emperor turned back to look at the Imperial Royal Guard. It was clear, at least, that he was regaining some of his smugness after he had been so furious.  “Guards,” he said, “Leave us.”  
  
They did so. And already, Mara was still disbelieving as to how easily Palpatine had done something like that. It was pure foolishness, more than pure foolishness. It would only make it easier for them to get the drop on him.  
  
But from the way he spoke, it was clear that the Emperor had the mistaken belief that he had the upper hand. “I’m looking forward to completing your training, young Kenobi. Contrary to what General Naberrie thinks, as well as my traitorous apprentices and your mother, you will learn to call me Master. And not only you, but those with you – they will learn to call me Master as well. All of them. They’ve been doomed to do so for the start – to serve the Empire or die.”  
  
“The Empire,” Mara said, “Can kindly take a walk in space without a spacesuit.”  
  
The Emperor smirked, but there was disdain in it. “Mere threats? Is this what your new apprentice is capable of, General Naberrie? I expected far better from you. As much of a brat as she was, your previous apprentice was smarter than the one you have before me. And to think that this one was capable of destroying my First Death Star. Preposterous.”  
  
“This ‘new apprentice’ is worth twenty of you, false Emperor,” Terminus said.  
  
“It does not matter, of course,” said the Emperor. “It has been your destiny from the start to walk in your father’s footsteps. To take his place at my side. And the others – it has been their destiny from the start to bow before me. Isn’t that right, Padme?”  
  
“No. Never.” Padme’s voice was resolute. “The rest of us will never bow down before you.”  
  
“It’s unavoidable. It always was your destiny,” the Emperor said, “Daughter of mine.”


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Bless the Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Padme's world is rocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Merry Christmas, everyone! (Yes, I know this is a pretty ironic Christmas update, all things considered) Hope everyone's currently having a good one.

For a moment, it seemed that time on the Death Star stood still. It seemed that the space battle outside melted away, aside from the occasional impressions of who was winning and who was losing – brother against brother, sister against sister, friend against friend, even parent against child and lover against lover, all because of this horrible war – Mara didn’t know if she was focused on much except the horrible truth that was in front of her. She wasn’t angry at Padme for not telling her that fact – Padme couldn’t have known, could she? The whole idea was absurd. Padme Naberrie, be the Emperor’s child? But that wasn’t possible, was it?  
  
Mara looked from the Emperor to Padme herself, still wondering if there was some way to reconcile those facts that were laid out in front of her. Because she could sense, horribly enough, that it was one of the rare moments where the Emperor was not lying. Sometimes the truth could hurt worse, be more effective, than any lie could ever truly be.  
  
Padme seemed to actually be in shock just then. Then, “No. You can’t be. It just can’t. You – ’’  
  
“It was a simple thing,” said the Emperor. “It’s interesting how easily the midichlorians can be manipulated. Nothing about raising the dead or immortality, which is unfortunate, but to create life, to modify life – that one can do. You were one of my best works, or were made to be. When you did not turn, Obi-Wan took your place. He fell.”  
  
“No.” And it was then that Mara watched the look on her master’s face, the horror in it, the look as if the galaxy as she knew it was already crumbling about her. Padme Naberrie, now nearly fifty years old, and learning that just about everything she knew was a lie. “You’re lying. You tell nothing but lies.”  
  
“We both know better, don’t we, my child?” And the soft way that the Emperor said it already made Mara hate him even more.  
  
Padme bit her lip. “Yes,” she said. “I suppose we do. But why didn’t the Jedi tell – ’’  
  
“To use you,” said the Emperor. “After all, the Jedi are no better than the Sith in that regard, are they, daughter of mine? They play others like dejarik pieces. We both play those dejarik pieces as we see fit. All according to our design. The difference is that the Jedi see themselves as righteous. Following the will of the Force, as they put it. How naïve, how deluded they truly are!”  
  
Mara shook her head. “The Jedi have never blown up a planet just to make a point.”  
  
“Actually,” said the Emperor, “You’ll find that there are many instances where the Jedi and the Sith aren’t that different. We’ve merely chosen different paths. It doesn’t mean that our methods aren’t the same.”  
  
There was a horrible silence that reigned through the Death Star in that moment.  
  
“You could join me, Padme,” said the Emperor. “You could embrace the potential that the Jedi held back from you. You could become more powerful than you ever were in the Order. Think of it – all the power that the galaxy could offer you and it could be yours. Perhaps even resurrect those you lost. Ahsoka, Satine…would it not be tempting?”  
  
Mara saw the flash of pain in Padme’s eyes, and she could tell that even though Padme was trying to not let it get to her, it still did, in a way. She placed a hand on Padme’s arm, and she could tell that despite the strength that Padme was trying to put on in that moment against the Emperor’s temptations, she was still struggling.  
  
 _Don’t give into him. Please don’t. This man is a master of lies. He can claim that the stars are green, but it doesn’t mean it’s true. Don’t give into him. Please…don’t._  
  
***  
Padme didn’t know what to think anymore. When she was fourteen years old, she knew that her parents were Ruwee and Jobal Naberrie, her sister Sola Naberrie, her nieces Ryoo and Pooja, who Sola had not too long after Padme had left for the Jedi – nieces that she had never gotten to watch grow up. When she had met Palpatine, there had been something about him where he had seemed strangely familiar, not only as a figure that she had occasionally seen from Sabe’s meetings with him, and her meetings with him on times when she had to play Sabe’s decoy (thanks to multiple attempts on Sabe’s life), and her meetings with him as a Jedi, but almost as if she was somehow connected with him. And he had almost become a hero to her.  
  
 _A hero_. Yes, it was strange to think so, but even seeing him get into power, the conviction that he seemingly had, the power of his speeches, the seeming dedication that he had in fighting to protect the Republic – he had seemed perfect to her at first. There had been moments when she’d doubted him in the Clone Wars, when she wondered about the matter of the Constitution and more, but at the same time, it seemed that everyone had been slipping into the sort of abyss that it was difficult to return from. The sort of abyss where it seemed that they became no better than their enemies. And the best that Padme could do was not become like them. To not become akin to her enemies.  
  
Now…now, not only had all of this turned out to be an elaborate set-up for a dictatorship, the ultimate revenge of the Sith after all those years, but it had also turned out that Padme’s life was no more than a set-up.  
  
 _Am I really Padme Naberrie? Or am I Padme Palpatine, the pawn of the Emperor, set up in this elaborate plot in order to make certain that the Sith win?_  
  
The very thought was something that Padme couldn’t bear to consider. She was nobody’s pawn in this game of dejarik. Maybe the Emperor had found it easy to use her as a dejarik pawn before, but not here…  
  
And yet, the deaths of Ahsoka, Satine, everyone in Order 66…it was tempting. She could briefly consider it. To bring them all back, Ahsoka, fresh-faced and youthful and cheerful and strong as she was when she had died, only a teenager, Satine, strong and full of conviction, even going to her death knowing that she was fully outnumbered on her own planet simply for daring to be a pacifist, to go against her planet’s bloody history (a history of things that included genocide – of Cathar and other places – all in the name of the glory of battle), Petro and Katooni, who had gone out so incredibly brave, fighting to the end…those were just a few of the people that she would think of resurrecting. The idea of resurrecting them, just to take away every bit of sorrow, every bit of misery that the Emperor had caused.  
  
It would be difficult, of course. Petro wouldn’t quite forgive Obi-Wan for what he had done, after all; the thought of his hero betraying him must have been almost like a double murder for him. The destruction of his innocence and the taking of his life, all in one breath. He and Katooni had gone out fighting as best they could, but that was little comfort all things considered.  
  
And even if she wanted to, it wasn’t to be. The Force – there was nothing in the Force that could resurrect the dead. Everything passed into the Force. All things. Death was as natural as birth, and even the most horrific deaths, there was no way to reverse them, even in those horrible nights when Padme had entertained the possibility of what would happen if she _did_ bring back the dead. If she used the Force to recall their spirits to their bodies, to make them once more _live_.  
  
Padme swallowed. “I can’t do that,” she said. “You know full well that I can’t.”  
  
“Are there not people you wish to bring back?” the Emperor said, and for a moment, it seemed that the Chancellor spoke through the mouth of this ruined creature that had taken his place. “Satine Kryze? Ahsoka Tano? The younglings?”  
  
“Who you killed,” Padme said softly. “You murdered them.”  
  
“Others committed those deeds, Padme,” said the Emperor. “Not me.”  
  
“But you gave the orders,” Padme said. “Ahsoka’s death, Satine’s death, the younglings, Alderaan, all of it – it was you, Emperor. It was always and completely you. You’ve caused enough death in this galaxy, enough destruction and grief and misery, and I doubt that I in reasonably good conscience could support such a thing. It’s _wrong_. I don’t care what lies you construct in order to justify it; what you’re doing is wrong.”  
  
The Emperor’s face remained impassive. “So you choose your own destruction. And what of your companions? Come, Terminus, Vader, Ventress,” he said, “You can’t possibly be thinking of such foolishness. To join this woman on her crusade. And what of you, Mara Kenobi and Ben Organa? Do you believe that you can take me on? You know that you cannot win. And Sabe? Would you condemn your planet to a losing battle all for the sake of patriotism? Ventress was less than adept in convincing you, but surely you can see it is the truth. Do you want to construct another Republic, another bloated bastion of corruption that cares nothing for its citizens? _Think_ , Senator.”  
  
Padme looked from Terminus to Vader to Ventress to Ben to Mara to Sabe, and she knew that she had nothing but the utmost hope for them.  
  
Sabe spoke. “I have no desire to create another Republic,” she said. “But neither do I wish to join your Empire. You won’t create peace. You won’t create stability. You don’t even care about such things; death and destruction alone justifies your means. Even if you started out with pure motives, they decayed long ago. So no, Emperor. I cannot, and will not, join you.”  
  
Vader said nothing, but moved towards Padme, placed an arm around her shoulder. And Padme already felt a sort of pride for him, for the man she had grown to love over all this time, that was almost overpowering in nature.  
  
“For her, then?” said the Emperor. “You choose it for…her? I have to confess, Lord Vader, that I’m disappointed by your motive. I expected more from you. How long has this been going on, I have to wonder?”  
  
Silence. Then Vader spoke. “Always.”  
  
“So you would condemn yourself all for _love_? That’s preposterous. There is no such thing,” said the Emperor. “There is manipulation, possession, desire, but love? It’s nothing but presumption.”  
  
“Only you could see such a thing as a weakness,” Vader said calmly. “And it’s not just the matter of love. It’s the fact that no Empire should be built on the backs of slavery. I saw slavery on Tatooine, I saw how terrible it was. You promised utopia, but you lied. You completely lied. We’re not going to obey your lies any longer.”  
  
Ventress smiled, and it was the sort of smile that Padme, even knowing of their alliance, so to speak, hadn’t expected. “You didn’t see that coming, did you, _Master_?”  
  
“You’ll pay for this. All of you. Every last one of you – and it shall be in great pain. You’ll _see_ , you’ll _truly see_ , and you will regret every moment of your defiance.”  
  
***  
  
They were out of hyperspace now. Even as the Death Star loomed in the distance, Lando was almost tempted to marvel at the size of it – it seemed enormous against the inky black landscape of the galaxy, and somehow…complete. Very complete. Apparently, the Emperor had finished it ahead of what they originally anticipated, but they could still carry on with the plan. Han and the others were still on Endor, doing their jobs. And Lando knew they would be able to do it.  
  
“All wings report in,” Lando said.  
  
“Red Leader standing by.” Wedge, this time.  
  
Gray and Green Leader reported in, and then Wedge spoke. “Lock S-foils in attack position.”  
  
 _In other words, the poodoo is about to go down._  
  
Over the comm, Ackbar spoke. “May the Force be with us.”  
  
 _Yeah._ Lando was not a believer in some all-mystical energy shield that controlled their destiny, but they definitely needed all the luck that they could get, just to get through this attack.  
  
It was then that Nien Numb, Lando’s Sullustan copilot in this likely suicide mission, pointed to the control panel. “ _Lando_! _We’re jammed!_ ”  
  
“We’ve got to get some reading on that shield, up or down,” Lando said. “How can they be jamming us if we don’t know…that we’re coming.”  
  
 _Oh stars. May the stars have mercy on all of us. We’re dead. The Emperor set us up. He was playing us all along, mocking us all along. Those Bothan spies died for nothing, because it was all part of his kriffing plan. Whatever it was, getting ambushed by us, attacked by us, was part of his_ plan. _Why?_ Why?  
  
Lando could have hit the dashboard of the _Falcon_ in frustration. But at the same time, he saw this coming from a mile away. Ventress had set up a plan like this pretty flawlessly. At least Lando now knew who taught her. _Looks like Ventress’ master taught her pretty kriffing well._  
  
“Pull up!” Lando shouted. “All craft, pull up! Break off the attack – the shield’s still up!”  
  
“I’ve got no reading,” Wedge said. “Are you sure?”  
  
“They’re jamming us,” Lando said. “They got some warning that we were going to attack, and they’ve decided to cut us off. We’ve been played, Red Leader. We’ve been played like a kriffing Max Reebo orchestra, I know that.”  
  
They turned towards the left, before all but bouncing off the invisible shield. The Death Star shot at them, at the fleet, and Lando realized, to his horror, that the blasted thing (pun completely unintentional) was _operational_.  
  
 _We were played. By the stars and galaxies, we have been played again and we were stupid enough to fall for it._  
  
“Take evasive action!” Over the comm, Ackbar sounded frantic, and judging by the other alarms that seemed to be going off, it seemed to have turned into a madhouse back on Ackbar’s ship. “Green group, stick close to holding sector MV-7.”  
  
“Admiral.” The controller this time. “We have enemy ships in sector 47.”  
  
“It’s a trap!” Ackbar said over the comm, and Lando was almost tempted to go, _You think?!_ But he took a deep breath and said, “There’s more fighters coming in. They’re coming in droves.”  
  
Indeed, in front of the _Falcon_ , they seemed countless, flooding at Lando and the others. They seemed almost like silvery, glowing insects in space, a whole flock of insects heading at the _Falcon_ , ready to take it out.  
  
“Accelerate to attack speed!” Lando said. “Draw their fire away from the cruisers!” They didn’t stand much of a chance as of now, of course, but he could still buy Han and the others more time.  
  
 _And Mara. And Padme. And the others. Please, stars, let them have enough time…_  
  
“Copy, Gold Leader,” Wedge said.  
  
They just needed to buy the others more time. No more, no less. They just needed to buy the others more time…  
  
***  
  
“Come, child, see for yourself.”  
  
Mara didn’t have to see the chaos that was already raging in front of her. She already knew. Out there, their plan, their idea of turning the trap against the Emperor, had failed horribly – nobody else knew that the Emperor was really using all of this in his favor. Nobody had any idea what the Emperor was really doing – indeed, they had all been in the dark. Mara’s chest clenched, and she wondered why she couldn’t have told Mon Mothma and the others sooner – but would they have believed her? Would they have brushed off her concerns too easily? They probably would have. They probably would have refused to believe that the Bothan spies died in vain, because they were all propping up the Emperor’s plan.  
  
Mara knew that even fully taking it in was hard, terribly so. Even the idea of it was sickening. And the horrible feeling only intensified even as she watched the Imperial Star Destroyers shoot down ship after ship, as ruthlessly as the AT-ATs had shot down Dak Vesser.  
  
“Your fleet is lost,” said the Emperor, and the gloating was all too clear in his voice, “And your friends on the Endor moon – they will not survive. The Alliance will die, as will they. Your efforts in fighting me have been for nothing.”  
  
Mara’s fists were already clenching. She was trying to avoid losing her temper, but already it was too difficult. She already heard the voices in her mind telling her to strike back, to prove the Emperor wrong, to –  
  
 _No. There is no emotion. There is peace. There is no ignorance. There is knowledge. There is no passion. There is serenity. There is no chaos. There is harmony. There is no death. There is the Force._  
  
They were lies, but they were lies that were enough to keep her from shaking. And if she remembered it often enough, perhaps she’d believe it. Yes. She’d believe it. Believe all of it.  
  
“That’s right.” The Emperor’s voice became almost a croon. “I can feel your anger.” And Mara already wished that he wasn’t crooning in such a way. As if he were relishing in her anger. As if he were enjoying this. “It’s _swelling_ in you now. You are becoming all you were meant to be.”  
  
“No.” Mara took a deep breath. “I’d never become like you.”  
  
“Would you put that to the test? Would you risk it? Your fleet is lost, child. Your friends are lost. There is no way that you can defeat me now.” The Emperor spoke into the comm near the armrest of his throne. “Admiral Piett.”  
  
“My Lord?” The Admiral sounded meek, but there was a sort of strength that was hidden by that meekness, the sort where taking command was all too easy, where the title that Ventress had given to him after Admiral Ozzel’s…untimely death (or so the stories went out. Mara knew that Ventress had something to do with it; she wasn’t what one would call kind to her soldiers) had not just been a matter of finding a new Admiral. “What is your command?”  
  
“Admiral,” said the Emperor, “Should the Rebels destroy the shield generator on Endor, you will turn this battle station onto the Endor moon and destroy it.”  
  
The silence was palpable. Padme tensed just then, and Terminus moved towards the comm, as if he was wondering how he could somehow dissuade Admiral Piett.  
  
“My Lord!” Piett sounded horrified just then. “But the Ewoks – they’ve done nothing to us. Not to mention our own men who are still on the surface – ’’  
  
“Are you questioning my orders, Admiral?” the Emperor said, a hint of menace in his voice even in that moment.  
  
“N – no,” Piett said. “No, my Lord. I shall…” Even the rest of Piett’s sentence sounded almost as if he was pulling teeth. No, worse than that – it sounded as if he was going to make a decision that even if he lived through this, would likely haunt him for the rest of his days.  
  
And Mara was glad for it at least. Piett deserved to live with the gravity of what he had done.  
  
Well, that was slightly unfair. After all, Piett didn’t want to do it. The Emperor was forcing him to do it. No more, no less.  
  
“I shall do as you command,” Piett said.  
  
“Excellent,” said the Emperor. “You always were a good soldier, Admiral. I thought for a moment that you would go against me.”  
  
“No.” And Mara could sense the barely buried disgust in Piett’s voice. The Emperor merely smiled in response. “No,” Piett said, clearly trying to restrain himself. “ _My Lord_.”  
  
The Emperor turned back to Mara, and the enjoyment in his face was enough to make every bit of anger that Mara had suddenly erupt, barely restrained. Her friends were there. The Ewoks were down there. Even the Emperor’s men – but he cared nothing for them, only as far as they could serve him. And Mara felt as if a red fog had come over her vision, every bit of reason, of everything that she had learned, being swept away in this current of fury.  
  
“No. _No_!”  
  
“Mara – ’’ Padme began, but Mara didn’t care. The very idea of the Emperor getting his hands on the others, of destroying Endor as he did Alderaan all while using Admiral Piett in order to do it – she couldn’t just stand by and let this happen. _I’ll crush him. I’ll be damned if he ever destroys the future for the Rebellion, or for anyone else. I’ll see him an Ewok’s dinner before I let him hurt anyone else_ –  
  
Mara drew her lightsaber then, and the Emperor drew his in turn, laughing that sort of unpleasant, almost crackly laugh that only made her hate him more – it was the sort of laugh that said that no matter what, he still had the upper hand. Completely and utterly. It was the sort of laugh that said that no matter what, the Dark Side would always prevail, because simply, it was stronger. It was the side that preyed on the Light Side and left it cowering in corners, as frightened as a child with the covers drawn up over their head afraid of the boogeyman, it was the side that tempted and lured and seduced good men and women over to it, the side that destroyed everything they were, broke them completely. It was the side that ravaged galaxies and tore them apart and killed planets for the sake of greater power, for the sake of violence. The Emperor was grinning, and it seemed that his almost reptilian face would split with it. And Mara ran at him, forgetting almost about the threat of the Dark Side, the terrible vision that would come to pass if she gave in, if she became like him. If she all but took his place, literally or otherwise.  
  
The Emperor laughed again, and it was a triumphant laugh, it was a full-throated, gloating, triumphant laugh even as he blocked her strike almost perfectly. Mara supposed that she shouldn’t be surprised; after all, the Emperor had probably been doing this long before even Padme had been born. But it only made her angrier, swiping at him, slashing at him, going for his head, going for his throat, going for every place she could conceivably reach, all while he blocked it, sending a blast of Force Lightning at Mara, and the pain was excruciating – it felt as if her entire body was engulfed in flames, licking at her from the inside out. She bit her lip so hard that she swore that she drew blood, but it didn’t help – indeed, it seemed that the pain intensified.  
  
“I’m disappointed,” the Emperor said. “I expected so much more from you, Mara Kenobi. I’m certain that if Master Yoda were here, he would be ashamed of you. How weak you are. Then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Ventress told me quite a bit of your failure on Bespin. You lost to her, and you’ll lose again.”  
  
“No.” Mara forced herself to her feet – her limbs were already aching, twinging from the agony that had been inflicted on them, but it hadn’t downed her. Instead, it had only made her angrier. And when Mara Kenobi got mad – well, in time, the Emperor was going to learn that it was time to run and hide. He didn’t get it, but he would. He would learn.  
  
Every Jedi teaching that had been drilled into her mind seemed to vanish in that moment, replaced by a desire for justice. _This son of a schutta, this Rodian in Ewok’s clothing – he’s not going to see the inside of a courtroom. This piece of Hutt-slime is the reason that you didn’t know your biological parents at first. This sadistic bastard, this thing that is lower than the slime under a Hutt’s tail, is the reason so many Jedi are dead. This serpent, this embodiment of evil – he’s the reason that Leia, Ada and countless others are without a planet. He’s the reason that so many families are torn apart, that your father’s on life support. This monster is responsible for so much suffering – is it only Jedi-like, more than that, only heroic that you take him down? After all he did?_  
  
Mara smiled, a sort of smile that was enough to match the Emperor’s. “You want to play, you worthless piece of slime under a Hutt’s tail? You don’t know what ‘play’ is. But you’re going to kriffing learn.”  
  
***  
Every walk towards the room where Piett would fire on Endor felt like a man’s slow walk to his execution. What condemned men felt like when they were about to die. But Piett would keep it under control – Imperial business was Imperial business, after all. It didn’t mean that he didn’t feel some sort of nausea that crept up his throat in that moment. But he kept it down. He was a soldier of the Empire and he would carry out his duty to the last.  
  
Piett took a deep breath. He had no desire to do something like this – after all, he was Admiral Piett, the man who prided himself mostly on keeping order however he could. He wasn’t a man who wanted to commit mass-murder. After what had happened on Alderaan, there had been a moment when Piett had had some doubts, when he had wondered when they had crossed over from simply doing whatever they could to prevent the Rebels from toppling everything they’d built to straight-up mass murder. After all, there had been civilians on Alderaan, hadn’t there been? People who wanted nothing to do with any of this.  
  
Then again, in times such as this, even neutrality was a criminal act. Even neutrality could indirectly aid the Rebels and topple everything that the Emperor had tried to build and that the Imperial fleet had tried to preserve. That _Piett_ had helped try to preserve.  
For now, he would have to keep an eye on the ships, on the _Millennium Falcon_ and the others, and make sure they did not get to the Death Star.  
  
“Intensify forward fire power,” he said. “No matter what happens, don’t let anything get through.” It was at least a way to not only protect the Death Star, but Endor as well. After all, Piett was not a murderer, not really, but he wasn’t a man who would betray the Empire either, even if the Emperor had, lately, not been delivering on the promises that he had made the Empire. Even if there were whispers of the Emperor being mad. Whatever one could say about the Emperor, the Empire was still good and worth defending.  
Admiral Piett, after all, had always been a good soldier to the last.  
  
***  
  
On the Death Star, the Emperor dueled the Jedi (and one Dark Jedi) who had finally struck against him. Even as Mara dodged another blast of Force Lightning from him, she was already worrying about how long it took before she finally fell, before the Emperor finally tipped her over the edge. The whole thing was a suicide mission – Padme was right about that, but just to make it all worse, the Emperor seemed to be winning. The chances of all of it turning around on him – they were just about zero.  
  
The Emperor had played them all like marionettes. Mara had to give him credit – he was good. He hadn’t just formed an Empire by having loyal lackeys, although she could only assume, given the Imperials, that this wasn’t really out of the question either.  
  
Next to Mara, Terminus cried out in pain even as the Emperor’s saber carved through his armor – all but carved through it. And Mara ran towards him, suddenly frightened for him – more frightened than ever. She couldn’t let him die like this, not now. She simply couldn’t.  
  
“Father!” she said.  
  
The Emperor stood over him, and it seemed that his face was bared in the sort of smile that only a madman could really pull off –  a smile that was more teeth bared than anything else. “My apprentice,” he said, in that sort of gloating voice that made Mara wish, more than ever, that she could spear him through the throat right then and there, “I’m disappointed in you. I expected so much more. But then again, you were always weak, Terminus. You could barely bear to fight me. You could barely rise against me without help from your daughter, from your pitiful band. And look at them now, Terminus. They never could stand against me, Terminus. They weren’t strong enough. If none of you will bow down, then sure enough you will die.”  
  
The Emperor raised his hand then and there, about to cast Force Lightning, and Mara knew what he was going to do. He wasn’t even going to grant her father a quick death. Instead, he was going to let him die slowly. Torturing him to death. Because the Emperor was not a merciful man – he was a cruel, vicious man who, if there had been any humanity in him, had killed it a long time ago.  
  
“Get away from him,” Mara said, and she threw herself then into the Emperor’s path.  
  
The Emperor seemed legitimately surprised, as if he hadn’t expected that. Mara was almost tempted to smirk. This man – if you could call him a man – had a talent for underestimating his enemies. But even that sort of amusement was overshadowed by the fact that this man had tried to torture her father to death. And that – that Mara knew that she couldn’t allow.  
  
Next to her, Sabe joined her, and her jaw was set. “You’re not going to hurt anyone else, false Emperor. Not anymore. Not once, not ever again.”  
  
Vader stood beside Sabe without a word, as did Ben and Padme and after a while, Ventress. And Mara grinned at the group of them; in the end, they were worth twelve of the Emperor any day.  
  
No, more than that. They were worth at least twenty, thirty, forty.  
  
The Emperor laughed. “The six of you against me? What can the five of you do? Look at you, all of you…two traitors to the cause, two failure Jedi, a soldier following commands, and a worthless _patriot_. Against me, there is no victory. I am the Dark Side. I am _power_.”  
  
“You want to put that to the test?” Mara said. “Go right ahead.”  
  
The Emperor smiled. Mara didn’t like the smile, or anything, for that matter, that it suggested. It was an unpleasant smile, the sort that suggested that there would be plenty of pain for just about everyone involved in all of this.  
Nonetheless, Mara wasn’t going to be afraid. The last thing that anyone needed was to be afraid.  
  
The Emperor drew his lightsaber once more, moving with the same sort of uncanny grace that Mara had seen earlier – she hadn’t expected it from honestly, such an old man, but then again, the Emperor had been practicing for years. Mara remembered what Padme had taught her about lightsaber combat and that allowed her to dodge his slashes and strokes once again, but even so, he was still quite experienced. Next to him, all of them might as well have been no more than children playing with toy lightsabers, having fake sparring matches in their backyard.  
  
They fought, Mara throwing everything she knew that she could do at him. Force pushes – it took a few tries, but the Emperor was knocked across the throne room. Mara took a deep breath, and even in spite of herself, she couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. “Looks like the embodiment of the Dark Side itself just got knocked on its cargo hold,” she said. She grew more serious. “This ends here, _Your Highness_. We’re not here to kill you, but we intend that you stand trial for your various crimes against the galaxy. You must answer for them.”  
  
“Indeed?” Now the Emperor was going back to his previous affable façade; it was enough to throw Mara off-guard but she reminded herself, once again, not to be fooled. The Emperor could speak softly and seem affable, but he was a monster to the core. It was only through this fake affable exterior, this almost fatherly façade, that anyone got fooled by what he was doing in the first place. If he’d outright barged into the Senate and demanded that the others bow down to him, would anyone have even thought of following him? Of course not. He’d just persuaded them to lose their critical thought just for a bit, all in the name of the greater good of protecting the Republic and fighting the Separatist boogeymen out there. The Separatist boogeymen that he had commandeered to personally fight against the Republic. Constructing a crisis to make others bow down before him, seek safety from him.  
  
No wonder so many people had fallen for it.  
  
The Emperor continued. “And what crimes have I committed, I may ask? All I have ever done was in the best interest of the Empire.”  
  
“If you pardon my Huttese, that is the biggest load of bantha poodoo I’ve ever heard.”  
  
The Emperor continued on, ignoring her earlier remark. “I’ve only wanted to create peace,” he said, and the sheer audacity, the sheer boldness of that lie was enough to render Mara speechless. “You and the others – you were the ones who attacked my domain first, all in the name of your precious Republic. There is no crime in defending my borders.”  
  
“How about destroying Alderaan?” Ben said. “If you had an issue with my father, you could have at least dealt with it with him and only him. If you were looking for the Rebel base, you could have searched personally.” His voice shook, and Mara placed a hand on his shoulder if only to comfort him the best she could. She couldn’t imagine how he was feeling, hearing him all but accuse other planets he had destroyed, such as Alderaan, of basically shooting first. She had a feeling that even if the Emperor made it to court, he’d still be using that lie to try and get out of trouble with the judges. And probably accuse the Rebellion of trying to depose him and start a new Empire in his stead, never mind that the Rebellion would be damned if they did such a thing.  
  
“Alderaan needed to be taught a lesson,” the Emperor said. “A lesson in obedience.”  
  
“But the galaxy didn’t learn that lesson, did they?” Mara said. “They’re defying you. They’re going for you – oh, would you look at that? The Ewoks are kicking your Imperials’ miserable butts, the shield’s down – I can feel it. You’re losing, Your Highness. And I’m not going to fall to the Dark Side. Not long ago, I saw a vision that suggested that I would become like you. But I’m not taking it. I am a Jedi, like my father, Padme and Vader before me. And you are _under arrest_ , Your Highness.”  
  
Silence. Then the Emperor laughed. He got to his feet, his helpless façade forgotten. His eyes seemed to be blazing with the power of the Dark Side.  
  
“Young fool,” he said. “Young fool…only now, at the end, do you understand…”  
  
Mara raised her lightsaber to block, but the Emperor was fast – and she was already forced to her knees from the pain of the Emperor's Force Lightning.


	16. Chapter Fifteen: The Plan Undone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which at least one phase of Ventress' plan gets carried out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. 
> 
> Author's Notes: Hope everyone had a very good Christmas! Mine went well, aside from some difficulties. And I hope you like this chapter.

Outside, against the black of the galaxy, it was radiant, iridescent chaos with the X-wings and TIE fighters and Star Destroyers already falling to pieces, but Lando Calrissian was not afraid. Not really.  
  
So far, things were actually going better than how they started out. The Emperor may have played them for fools, but Ackbar had told them as it was that the shield was down. Han had taken down the shield; he’d done it. Lando grinned; he knew that Han wasn’t going to let him down, he just knew it.  
  
“Commence attack on the Death Star’s main reactor,” Ackbar said.  
  
“We’re on it!” Lando said. “Red group, gold group, all fighters follow me. Told you they’d do it! Now come on – let’s blow this baby to hell.”  
  
The shield was down. They had a chance. Now they just had to destroy this thing and they would be home free.  
  
***  
  
Mara was at least glad that she managed to overcome the matter of the Dark Side, but she couldn’t say that it stopped the fact that the Emperor was currently torturing her with Force Lightning. And if the previous assaults were bad, this one was a lot worse than any of the assaults. It forced her to her knees, and it seemed almost as if her mind was starting to come apart at the seams. It hurt, dear Force it _hurt_ , she didn’t think that she had ever experienced such pain in her life. It was searing through her, frying her blood, frying bone, all the while the Emperor was laughing with a sort of joy that was enough to make her hate him all the more.  
  
“You weak, pathetic fool,” the Emperor said. “You barely had the strength to kill me. Your father barely had the strength either, and that was his downfall. Now, only at the end, do you truly understand.”  
  
Mara gritted her teeth again. The pain was already getting more excruciating. _Come on_ , she told herself, _Get to your feet. Get up. Damn you, get up._  
  
But she couldn’t. It hurt so much. It _hurt_ –  
  
 _Get up. Get up._  
  
“You have paid the price for your lack of vision,” the Emperor snarled, and more Force Lightning came through his fingertips. It seemed that Mara’s body was already frying – her clothes were smoking, her body was already jolting with the electricity that coursed through it.  
  
 _Get up. Get up. Get up. Stand. Stand and fight_ –  
  
And finally, Mara forced herself to her feet, glaring at the Emperor. “So have you,” she said. She drew her lightsaber and blocked the Force Lightning that came her way next.  
  
The Emperor howled – it was a horrific thing to see. Already, it seemed that his face was beginning to roast before Mara’s eyes, his features beginning to melt, his skin and hair beginning to char. And Mara watched, horrified at the effects – did Force Lightning usually do such things? Did it usually –  
  
“You wouldn’t do this, would you?” the Emperor said, and he sounded, momentarily, like a weak old man instead of the torturer that he was. “You – you’re a Jedi!”  
  
 _Jedi_.  
  
Mara felt almost as if she had been struck in the stomach. She was a Jedi. Jedi didn’t torture, Jedi didn’t kill. And yet at the same time, this man – this man had no qualms about torturing her. It was only when the torture was turned back on him that he began whimpering and pleading for his life, appealing to mercy. Maybe that was the difference between the thugs and the patriots. The patriots were loyal to the end. The thugs, the manipulators – they tried to find ways out as best they could, no matter what.  
She remembered something that Uncle Owen had said a long time ago, when she was a kid. _You’d be amazed what people pull to try and get themselves out of trouble._  
  
But she was a Jedi. A Jedi. Jedi didn’t torture, Jedi didn’t kill…  
  
In the end, she lowered her lightsaber. The Emperor was whimpering, groaning in pain, and Mara worried for a moment that she had actually gone too far. Then he sneered at her and leapt, seeming almost like something out of a nightmare.  
Mara barely managed to block him in time. And all the while, in the back of her mind, she realized, _He tricked me! That little son of a Hutt tricked me…_  
  
 _Well, what did you expect? The man always lies. He just knew exactly where to hit, considering how you didn’t want to fall to the Dark Side._  
  
And they dueled once again, Mara managing to block his strikes, managing to sever an arm. The Emperor howled even as his severed limb rolled over to the side, lightsaber still in hand – although that barely stopped him from hurling more Force Lightning at Mara, which this time she managed to dodge.  
  
Except for one that caught her once more, hurling her over towards the side. She gasped in pain; she hadn’t expected that impact. And by the Force, it hurt…  
  
Through the blur of pain, Mara swore that she saw Ventress and Terminus charge at the Emperor, and Ventress’ lightsaber was raised with not with fury, but a sort of detachment, an acknowledgment that in the end, they had to do what had to be done. And it was then that the Emperor’s sneering, triumphant face turned to terror.  
  
“It can’t be,” the Emperor said. “You…you – ’’  
  
“We have to do this.” Terminus’ voice, Mara swore contained some sorrow in it. “You’ve done terrible things, Your Majesty, and it’s time to end it, once and for all. Not out of hatred, not out of revenge, but to save everyone in this galaxy. All who you’ve wronged. All who you’ve killed.”  
  
“You lied to us,” Ventress said. “You lied to all of us. And we supported you. We never knew about every lie that you ever told, did we?”  
  
“You _fools_ ,” the Emperor practically snarled. “You think you can defeat me? I am immortal. I am the Dark Side itself. Killing me won’t solve every bit of injustice in the galaxy. It won’t defeat the Empire. It will rise again, stronger than ever – ’’  
  
“Maybe it will,” said Terminus. “But at least we can put the galaxy at peace.”  
  
The Emperor snarled then, sending more Force Lightning at Terminus, who cried out in pain – pain that Mara didn’t think that she would hear again. And Ventress raised her lightsaber, plunging it through the Emperor’s heart, felling him.  
  
The Emperor stared at them, clearly in shock, before going slack.  
  
Ventress deactivated her lightsaber just then, and she and Terminus ran towards Mara. Terminus embracing her tightly, and Mara felt almost as if she were squashed against his breathing apparatus. It was forcing herself to draw away that she realized that Terminus was wheezing. The Force Lightning had hit him pretty badly.  
  
“You’re hurt – ’’ Mara began.  
  
“It’s…all right.” Terminus’ voice was already heavy, almost wheezing in nature. “I…couldn’t let him hurt you. I simply…couldn’t.”  
  
It was then that they ran to Padme, Sabe, Vader and Ben, who embraced them tightly, and Ben spoke, staring at Terminus in fear. “Father, you’re – ’’  
  
“In terms of lightning blasts,” Terminus said, “I’ve suffered far worse.”  
  
Alarms rang throughout the Death Star then. That meant, at least, that Lando and the others had struck a mark, small as it likely was.  
  
“Let’s get out of here,” Mara said, “Before we’re blown up too.”  
  
“Yes,” said Padme. “But…we do have something to attend to first.”  
  
She looked over the Emperor’s body, and Mara could swear that there was some sadness in her eyes even as she regarded the corpse of the man who had terrorized them for so long and ruined people’s lives.  
  
“It’s a pity that he turned out as he did,” Padme said. “Once upon a time, I might have called him friend. Or even, all things considered, ‘Father’.”  
  
“He’s not your father.” Vader walked over towards her, put an arm around her. “He was no father to Ventress, or to me. And you are nothing like him.”  
  
“I know,” Padme said. “But nonetheless, he is a part of me. A part that I could have embraced if I wasn’t careful…”  
  
“But you didn’t,” Mara said. She took a deep breath. “And hopefully, neither have I.”  
  
Padme turned to her and smiled. “No,” she said. “In the end, you didn’t. In the end, you proved yourself to be the better of the two. You did get badly injured for it, though.”  
  
Mara grinned blearily. “It stings a little. Well, more than a little. But I’ll make it.”  
  
The Death Star shook again, and alarms sounded once more through it.  
  
“Let’s do what we have to,” Mara said. “And then we’ll leave.”  
  
“Good plan.” Ventress looked over the Emperor’s body stonily. “May this monstrosity be his tomb.” She lifted his body up, though it seemed that she was having difficulty doing so. Mara stood beside her before helping her lift the Emperor’s body as well. Vader, Padme and Sabe, and a weakened Terminus, joined in, and they hurled the Emperor’s body down the reactor shaft of the Death Star.  
  
Mara watched even as the Emperor plummeted down the shaft, and even that…that had a sort of finality to it. Farewell to the man who had caused them so much misery. May the machine you used in order to kill innocent people be your tomb, your hell.  
  
“Well,” Mara said, “Who gets his lightsaber? Just out of curiosity.”  
  
A chuckle from Ventress. “I think _that_ goes down the shaft as well.”  
  
They tossed the arm and the lightsaber down the shaft after the body.  
  
“Right,” Mara said. “So…the Emperor’s dead. But we still have to talk Admiral Piett out of firing on Endor.”  
  
“Piett is far from a sadistic man,” Ventress said, “But he is too much of an Imperial good boy. Persuading him will be a challenge.”  
  
“Then we better do it fast,” Mara said. “You know the way, Ventress?”  
  
Ventress merely nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I do. Follow me.”


	17. Chapter Sixteen: Empires Unmade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the battle is won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Hope you like this chapter!

They reached the Death Star command room, and Mara already heard the ominous, almost droid-like voice over the intercom. “Rebel base, thirty minutes and closing.” They still had time, of course, but it didn’t mean that their time wasn’t still precious as it was. They needed to change Piett’s mind. It was hard to change an Imperial officer’s mind, of course, but nonetheless, Mara knew that she had to try. She found him there, standing pale yet composed, overlooking Endor and the space battle, where it looked as if Lando had taken more than a few ships down. Mara smiled if only briefly before heading towards Piett – and it was then that he turned towards her, momentarily distracted from the matter of the Death Star by the fact that Mara was here.  
  
“It’s you,” he said. “It’s actually you. After all this time we spent hunting you, I didn’t think – you’ve caused us quite a lot of trouble.”  
  
“Admiral,” Ventress said. “Put that down.”  
  
Piett lowered the blaster in his hand, though it was clear that he was already confused – more than that, angry. “Why is she here?” he said. “And my lady, I mean no disrespect, but why are you here?”  
  
“To give you an explicit order, Admiral,” said Ventress. “Do not fire on Endor.”  
  
“My lady, the Emperor commanded – ’’  
  
“The Emperor is dead,” Ventress said. “You no longer need to take orders from him.”  
  
“You…” Piett seemed to turn white in pure fury. “You _traitor_! You’re all traitors to the Empire! How could you do this?”  
  
“The Emperor lied to you,” Ventress said. “He always has.”  
  
“Nevertheless,” Piett said, “If I have to stand against you, Lady Ventress, I will. It may be treason from your point of view, but I am not going to betray the Emperor, nor what he stands for.”  
  
“Then I’m sorry, Admiral.”  
  
The fight was short – very much so. Piett’s body fell to the floor even as Ventress’ lightsaber went through his chest, and Mara already felt sick. If only there had been another way.  
  
“You didn’t need to – ’’  
  
“He’s dead,” Ventress said. “It’s regrettable, but in order to stop the Death Star from destroying Yavin – we have to do whatever we could. I suppose I should have seen it coming; Piett was a loyal officer to the last. One of his greatest strengths, but also one of his greatest weaknesses, actually…” She sighed. “We’re going to have to shut down the Death Star.”  
  
“What?” Mara stared at her in confusion. “How are we going to even do that?”  
  
“Reach out,” Padme said softly. “The Force binds everything – even the mechanical elements such as the construction of this Death Star. You can feel it, can’t you?”  
  
Mara reached out after a while, hesitantly, and she could feel the fine wirings of the Death Star, every line, every tunnel, every lever – and then there was the console that allowed the gunner (in this case, the recently deceased Admiral Piett) to fire off a shot on Endor. Mara reached in, and it seemed in the Force, the way to shut down the console was far too clear, almost like something that said DISABLE ME LIKE THIS.  
  
Mara reached, and through the Force, she disabled the console that would have allowed the Death Star to fire off a shot.  
  
It sparked, fizzled, before finally coming to its end with a screech. And Mara withdrew, suddenly feeling more tired than she could have ever been. She was too tired.  
  
“Are you all…right?” Terminus’ voice. Anxious, worried.  
  
“I’m fine,” Mara said. “I…didn’t think that it was possible…”  
  
“With the Force,” said Terminus, “Nothing is truly impossible.”  
  
“Thank the Force.” Padme took a deep breath and, almost as if she had been holding it in for quite a long time, released it. “You did it. You managed to shut it down.”  
  
“Yeah, I did.” Mara reached into Lando’s mind just then, felt his surprise at her being in his mind. _Lando…sorry I had to contact you like that, but it was the best thing that I could do, all things considered. The Death Star’s shut down. I managed to use the Force to shut down the firing mechanisms. Now you get in there and knock out the main reactor, got it?_  
  
And over the Force, she could feel Lando’s determination to do all of it and more to the last.  
  
Mara withdrew before turning towards Terminus. “We’ve got to warn the others as well,” she said. “Make sure that they don’t get blown up. Ventress…do you have the intercom?”  
  
Ventress walked towards it. “Attention, ladies and gentlemen on the Death Star,” she said, “It has been compromised. We appear to have suffered a malfunction.”  
  
That, Mara thought, was at least one way to put it.  
  
“It’s best that you get off the Death Star,” said Ventress, “Before it inevitably explodes. The evacuation shuttles are in the hangar; I advise you exit in an orderly and controlled fashion.” Over the intercom, it seemed that the chaos and fear that was erupting in that moment was already dying down.  
  
She then turned to Mara. “Let’s go then.”  
  
They ran, and it seemed that they all but flew past the crowds of people running towards the exit and towards the hangar. Terminus was already wheezing in pain, and Mara could only hope, even as they got into one of the shuttles they’d managed to grab, that they got to a medic in time.  
  
She couldn’t afford to lose him. Not now.  
  
***  
  
Jerjerrod was down. The rest of the squadrons, Gold Squadron, Green Squadron, and others, had seen to that plenty. Now they had to get the Death Star down. In front of them, the main reactor shaft seemed massive, much more impressive than the previous one that Mara had told him about in terms of her blowing up the First Death Star. _Bigger does seem to mean better to the Empire, doesn’t it?_ But they had gotten past the shield. Jerjerrod was down, and as far as Lando could see, the Death Star was shut down (and to think that Mara had used the Force to shut down the Death Star like that…Lando made a note to buy that girl a drink and shake her hand when this was all over) so they had plenty of time to go in for the final shot.  
  
“There it is!” Wedge exhaled, which sounded almost like a whistle. “Stars, it’s massive – ’’  
  
“I see it, Wedge,” Lando said. “Go for the power regulator on the north tower.”  
  
“Copy, Gold Leader,” Wedge said. “I’m already on my way out.”  
  
While Wedge took care of the power regulator, Lando moved towards the main reactor. When it seemed as if the _Falcon_ was close enough to touch the main reactor, Lando fired.  
  
The missiles shot out of the _Falcon_ , powerful, deadly, and hit the center of the main reactor. A brief pause, then the explosions began, small at first before growing in intensity and frequency. They’d definitely hit a spot. That and those missiles…those babies were powerful, they really were.  
  
“ _You got it_!” Nien Numb said in excitement.  
  
“Yeah, I know I’ve got it. Now we better get out of here before we’re caught.”  
  
Luckily, Lando Calrissian had had plenty of experience in terms of getting out of deadly situations like this. When you were around Han enough, or were a smuggler like Han, you had plenty of experience in terms of getting out of hell. _A Falcon out of hell_ , he thought, and he almost smiled at how appropriate it was for the whole situation.  
  
It seemed that the _Falcon_ blasted out on the wave of debris that the Second Death Star sent everywhere. Over the comm, Lando heard Ackbar’s voice: “Move the fleet away from the Death Star.” And he could see the fleet breaking up in that moment, heading away from the Death Star to make sure that the fighters weren’t in the path of the exploding space station.  
  
They were out. They were finally out of trouble. He could hear the cheering of the others and for a moment, he wanted to cheer with them, but something in the back of his mind worried about where exactly Mara and the others were. _What’s taking them? They didn’t blow up as well, did they?_  
  
It was then that he saw a shuttle heading out, and Mara’s voice appeared again in his mind – she’d have to stop doing that sometime, Lando thought, it was unsettling, though it was definitely a relief to hear if anything else. _We’re out. You did beautifully, Lando. And I’m going to make sure that you get a medal for this when this is all over._  
  
Lando grinned. “No problem, Mara.”  
  
Nien Numb looked at him in confusion.  
  
“Mara…contacted me,” Lando said. It was the best way to explain to Nien Numb. “She’s safe. She managed to get out of this in one piece.”  
  
Nien Numb paused, confused for a moment, before grinning, relieved, ecstatic even, that the Death Star was finally destroyed and this was over.  
  
***  
  
They were on one of the shuttles out before Terminus spoke. “Mara…please…help me take this…mask off.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Mara said. “You’ll die. I can’t – ’’  
  
“I had a feeling…” Terminus coughed. “I had a feeling that I would die…no matter what the circumstances. In battle, at the Emperor’s hand, any way at all. Only take this mask off so I can see you, Padme, and the others with my own eyes.”  
  
Mara swallowed. Already she felt a lump building up in her throat even as she removed the mask – it was complicated of course, one layer after the other, one intricate layer devoted to different things, one for each area (and Mara wondered how long he had been living in that suit that was almost akin to a prison for him, not being able to eat or breathe or speak on his own. Even Vader’s efforts hadn’t entirely helped matters). She could feel the horror in Padme even as she watched the process, as if even she hadn’t expected how deep it would all run. Ventress’ horror was too clear as well, and her contempt for Padme – Ventress hadn’t known what happened, of course, and maybe to her it didn’t matter in this moment, just because of how angry she was that Terminus had ended up that way. Vader’s dismay was just about as palpable, and Sabe’s, and Ben’s – all of their dismay was something that Mara felt too well. She had been used to the intimidating visage that Terminus displayed on the holonews, a towering ebony giant with a commanding voice and a terrifying suit of armor. She hadn’t thought of how many layers covered up the fact that he was fundamentally a broken man.  
  
Then again, he’d done a fine job covering it up even without the matter of the layers. They were just emotional aspects, not physical aspects.  
  
One more layer to go. Mara hesitated, almost afraid of what she would find. Then she steeled herself and removed the last layer, and it was then that Mara, for the first time, saw Terminus’ face. She’d been used to seeing the mask, even when Terminus had turned to their side – in a way, it had been darkly comforting, the protector in black armor, the man who was trying desperately to atone, the man who had plenty of grief and guilt in him but was doing whatever he could if only to make up for them.  
Seeing Terminus’ face – it was a shock at first. It was a pale face, it was a terribly pale one, burned horribly; it seemed almost as if a lot of the burns hadn’t healed. A lot of his hair had been burned off as well, and his eyes – they were a horrible sight, red, jagged, swollen lines under there and on his cheeks as well. But it was a kindly face nonetheless, and it was her father’s. It was a handsome face as well, a face of a man who had been her father – wise, kind, noble, funny, just as she had managed to gather from his stories.  
“Your eyes,” he said. “I suppose I can’t blame you for the way you look right now. It’s not exactly a lovely sight…this state I’m in.” Even with a small smile playing over his lips, it didn’t exactly soften the statement. Mara wondered how he could joke about something like that. Probably some sort of defense mechanism. Making it seem better than it was.  
  
Beside her, Padme squeezed her eyes shut, almost as if she couldn’t bear to look at what she had done in a way. Terminus’ face softened, and it was replaced with the utmost compassion, the utmost sympathy. “Don’t blame yourself, Padme. I told you to run. I didn’t want you to fall prey to the Emperor as well. You were…you were one of my dearest friends. And I doubt I could have lost you like that. Even then.”  
  
“I never wanted you to end up like this,” Padme said.  
  
“To save you, to save Mara, to save the others…I would have done anything.” A blink from Terminus. “This is an odd thing. I don’t think I’ve seen light with these eyes for quite some time. And I didn’t expect them to be this sensitive.”  
  
“Yeah.” Mara smiled at him, warmly, gently. “It’s light, Father. It’s not quite daylight, but it’s freedom nonetheless. Being out of that mask…”  
  
They weren’t out of danger yet, of course. They still had to get back to Endor, after all. And Terminus wasn’t even anything near cured. His body was so badly damaged, and the lightning that the Emperor had inflicted upon it in that moment only made it worse. Mara only hated the Emperor even more, and Jedi or no, she was glad, more than glad in fact, that he was dead. The galaxy was no longer suffering, her father, Vader and Ventress were no longer suffering, and the Emperor’s victims could rest in peace now. Everything would be all right. For the first time in so many years, everything would be fully all right. They were covered in battle wounds and scars and pain but they were still very much okay. They were far from heroic, of course, but they were okay.  
  
“Freedom…” Terminus took in a gasp of air. “I can’t say I’ve experienced that in quite some time.”  
  
“Obi-Wan.” Padme spoke, and her voice was trembling. “I am so…sorry.”  
  
An affectionate smile from Terminus – from Obi-Wan Kenobi, actually – and Mara could definitely see the shades of the man her father had been long before the Emperor had gotten his hands on him. For a moment, it seemed that the burned man lying before her with wounds that had barely healed vanished and she was speaking to the kind, funny, if flawed Jedi Knight that he had been. _What a life we might have known if not for the Emperor. But we still got to know that life, even if not in the way we expected. We found a home._ The Alliance had been their home in the end – every displaced man, woman, child had found refuge there, had found sanctuary, a second chance there. Whether they be former Imperial or otherwise, they found home.  
  
“Padme,” he said, “My dear apprentice. I think you’ve been sorry enough, and sad enough. It’s time that you forgave yourself. I’ve already forgiven you.”  
“But your face…you’re _hurt_.”  
  
“I’m badly burned,” said Obi-Wan, “But in terms of injuries, I have looked _much_ worse than this. And I have endured multiple agonies – I don’t think this is really the worst I’ve suffered.”  
  
 _I shudder to think of what “worst” is in his estimation. Or if he’s just trying to make her feel better. Maybe both?_  
  
Obi-Wan continued. “Not to mention, it was the Emperor, in the end, who decided to keep me…essentially incapacitated. He thought that I would be less of a threat to him that way.”  
  
“But that makes no sense!” Mara said. “I mean, isn’t treachery the way of the Sith?”  
  
“Yes,” said Obi-Wan, “But the Emperor, after growing enamored with power, would not sacrifice it that easily. It’s quite the irony – he had no problem killing his master in his sleep but the idea of his apprentices besting him in, say, a duel was unthinkable. But after the euphoria of having the galaxy at his command, I think he would be more than slightly reluctant to give it up.”  
  
“That he would.” Mara sighed. “Thank the _Force_ he’s gone. I know it may not be Jedi-like to think so, but still – ’’  
  
“Mara,” Obi-Wan said, “You are completely right. Indeed, I’m certain that there are others who would feel the same way. The Emperor did…terrible things. Some I don’t think that you’ve even heard of.” He raised his head, at least as much as he was able to. “We’re…nearly there,” he said. “Endor…the galaxy…I almost forgot how beautiful they were without seeing them through mechanical eyes. It wouldn’t be bad to see them…before I go…”  
  
“No!” Sabe’s voice was forceful, furious. “By the stars themselves, you’re not going to die on me. I already nearly lost you twice, Obi-Wan; I’m not going to let it happen again.”  
  
Obi-Wan turned to look at her, and his smile was sad. “I’ll be…all right, Sabe. I promise. I won’t truly leave you either. I’ll be with you…”  
  
Mara shook her head. “Please,” she said. “Let us…try at least. Padme, is there any way to help him?”  
  
Padme nodded. “I’ve done it before,” she said. “I can do it again.” She closed her eyes, and Mara could see the sweat pouring down her forehead even as she poured her Force energy into making sure that Obi-Wan lived. Mara joined with her and though her efforts were new in comparison, she could feel the damaged body parts that had been so badly burned by Mustafar, the damaged lungs, the scarred skin, and in the Force, she felt them repair – felt Obi-Wan actually gasp.  
  
“What – what is that?”  
  
“It’s air, Father,” Mara said. “I don’t think you’ve actually had it in quite a long time.” _Proper air, that is._ She felt Vader join his Force energy, and Ventress joining hers, the latter not exactly to help Padme, but just to help Obi-Wan, the man she had grown fond of, perhaps even loved in her own way – Obi-Wan could never really love her back for the reasons of being already married, and even after all this time, loving Sabe, but he had grown to care for her in his way as well. The care that those joined by desperation and misery could form for each other because they were the only ones that the other had.  
  
“No.” Obi-Wan took another breath, as if the very process was miraculous for him. “I…by the Force, I can actually _breathe_.”  
  
Mara and the others continued their work, healing various burn scars, other bits of Force Lightning damage that the Emperor had done (damage that even discovering it made Mara want to resurrect the Emperor just so she could kill him again. For now, she just hoped that whatever afterlife the Sith had, if they had one, was particularly painful for the Emperor. He deserved nothing less after all the atrocities he had committed), various damage to internal organs and vocal chords, and eyes. And they were done. One of the only things that they couldn’t mend was the matter of the hair, and hopefully, Mara thought, the Rebellion could do something about it. And they couldn’t mend the legs and the arm that had been missing – Mara wanted to, but already, she was so tired…  
  
“I…I don’t think I’m done,” she said, but Obi-Wan held up a hand, smiling. She could swear that there were tears in the corners of his eyes, but not tears of sorrow – instead, they were tears of joy over what Mara managed to do.  
  
“You,” he said, “Get your rest. You’ve done more than enough.” It was odd actually hearing his proper voice. It was a warm, pleasant voice, not dark and resonant as it was in his Terminus persona, or raspy and slow as it had been when Mara first took off the mask, almost as if he struggled to speak, but pleasant and soft and sweet and with a faint bit of humor to it – the sort of voice of a man who, prior to what happened, had enjoyed life a lot and found something in it to amuse him, even in the bleakest of times. “You’ve done too much for me, actually.” His voice became softer, filled with gratitude. “You gave me a second chance, you gave me hope, you gave me so much back already. You gave me enough, Mara…from now into the future.”  
  
Mara swallowed. “Don’t mention it.” She fell asleep then, and it seemed, just for a moment, that the dreams she would normally have were kept at bay, just by the presence of Padme and the others, whose minds joined with hers even in sleep. And that company…all of that company, all of that hope, all of it was enough, from now into the future.


	18. Chapter Seventeen: Restoration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which friends are reunited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Author's Notes: Hope you like this chapter. It was one of my favorites to write, maybe because of the whole emotional content thing. Had Leia be Queen of New Alderaan thanks to a rejected ROTJ idea that I thought was just awesome. (YMMV, of course)

“Mara…we’re here.”  
  
Padme’s voice. And it was even as she swam up through the mist of sleep that Mara saw the forest moon of Endor in front of her for the first time – a beautiful planet, where the skies seemed almost beautifully clear and blue, where the blue seemed almost like an ocean in nature, and the forests seemed to extend forever. She was already tired, and there was a sort of residual sadness from all that had happened, all that they’d endured and lost, but even then, she couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful it was. She didn’t think that she would see sky, or solid ground after what happened on the Death Star – the presence of it was dizzying.  
  
Obi-Wan seemed just about as overwhelmed just looking at it. “This is…”  
  
“Yes, Father,” Mara said softly. “It’s the sky.” She took a deep breath, using her eyes to drink it in. “I didn’t think that I’d see it again. The blue, that is. And I didn’t think I’d see solid ground again.”  
  
“Nor did I.” And Obi-Wan didn’t have to elaborate further on it. Mara already knew what he meant. The only time that he had seen sky when he had been wearing that horrible suit was when he had to see it from behind artificial eyes.  
  
Sabe embraced him. “We’re safe,” she said. “We’re free. I never thought that this would happen.”  
  
Obi-Wan smiled, returned the embrace. “It would. It took longer than you would think, but it’s happened.” He then turned to Mara. “Are you all right?”  
  
“Bit of shock, I guess,” Mara finally said. “Didn’t really think that this would happen.”  
  
“I know,” said Ventress. “I myself wondered if there was an end in sight. I thought of it, of course, but I don’t think I ever considered it.”  
  
“We’re free,” Mara said. “All of us. Come on; let’s go find the others.”  
  
They disembarked, and Mara took in the air. Next to her, she could see Obi-Wan also taking in the air with a sort of confusion, as if he hadn’t expected to breathe it after all these years, and Sabe placing a hand on his shoulder to try and steady him. She most likely sensed his worry, his uncertainty, seeing the sun and sky and breathing air again after what seemed like an eternity being unable to do so, and was trying to comfort him the best she could. It would be a shock to everyone, Mara thought, being able to move on from the war. Being able to rebuild, to heal – in more ways than one.  
  
And it was there on the grounds of Endor that the others came to meet them, and Mara knew that whatever endeavor they took, they would not do it alone. There were hugs, there were cries of “You did it!” from all three sides, from those who had blown up the Death Star to those who had worked on the ground to Mara and the others – and finally, the other two sides took in Terminus fully, looks of bewilderment at his new appearance.  
  
“What happened to you?” Leia’s voice, bewildered, confused.  
  
“Mara and the others…” The way Terminus spoke, it was almost as if he couldn’t believe it himself. “Mara healed me. Mara, Padme, Vader, Ventress…they all healed me.”  
  
“Ventress?” Han stared at him. “She’s on our side now?”  
  
“I don’t think that I’m on anyone’s ‘side’, as it were,” said Ventress.  
  
“Then who are you?” Han sounded distrustful then, and Mara couldn’t say that she entirely blamed him. After all, there was plenty of baggage for the both of them to still sort through, even after all this time. They’d need time getting to really understand one another, to forgive each other, and even then, it didn’t mean that things would be all right between them.  
  
“I am…who I am. Not a Rebel Alliance member, but not an Imperial. I was meaning to rebel against the Empire for some time. I merely got the chance to do it just about now.”  
  
The others seemed skeptical, before Leia spoke. “Come on,” she said. “We’ve got some new friends that I want you to make. They helped us a great deal. Ewoks, to be more precise.”  
  
“Ewoks, huh?” Mara said. “Were they as scary as you thought they were?”  
  
Leia laughed. “We got off to a rough start at first,” she said, “But they came around to us. We definitely owe them a great deal in the battle. We owe them a lot.”  
  
“They’re going to get medals for this, aren’t they?” Mara said.  
  
“I’ll make sure of it,” Leia said.  
  
They continued onwards, Leia talking about what Wicket (that was one of their new Ewok friends, their guide on Endor) and the others had done. And though Mara was definitely pleased that the battle was over, that the war was finally over…they still had a lot of rebuilding left to do. They still had a lot of healing left to do. The Order still needed to be rebuilt.  
  
It was outside the Ewok camp that Mara held up a hand. “Leia,” she said, “I have to talk to you about something. I…I didn’t know how to tell you or Han or anybody, and I didn’t get a chance to earlier, but…the potential of the Force can exist in many people. And you’re one of them. Nobody ever told you, but you have the potential to be a Jedi.”  
  
Leia stared at her in amazement. “I’m…”  
  
“Yes,” Mara said. “You’re Force Sensitive. Of course, you don’t have to agree to this if you don’t want to, Leia.”  
  
Silence. Leia looked as if the galaxy as she’d known it had been yanked out from under her feet. “I…had a feeling,” she said. “Somehow, I always had a feeling. But there’s still a lot to do. There’s too much, actually.”  
  
“Could you – ’’  
  
“In time, maybe,” Leia said. “I mean, I still have a lot to do in the meantime. I have to rebuild Alderaan. Not…physically rebuild it – ’’  
  
“I know,” Mara said. “Why don’t you lead it?”  
  
“Me?” It seemed that the thought hadn’t even occurred to Leia.  
  
“Of course you!” Mara said. “I saw how you did with the Rebel Alliance. You’ll do beautifully with leading a people. You’ll give them the bright future that Alderaanians and so many others deserve. You can do this, Leia.”  
  
Leia looked taken back, but hardly in the bad way. Indeed, she only seemed startled – even touched, actually. Then, “I could. Alderaan needs a leader, after all. It needs a queen.”  
  
“And Han could rule with you.”  
  
Leia laughed. “Han Solo the ruler. That’s definitely an image. But yes, I could do that. I could spend a life with him. Rebuilding Alderaan, making it truly better…that is something that more than anything, I want to do. What about you?”  
  
“I still have a lot,” Mara said. “I have to rebuild the Order. I have to continue my training – I don’t think I’m even the slightest bit prepared. I’m not planning on leading the Order, though. I’m thinking Padme could.”  
  
“She could,” Leia said. She smiled. “She’d do beautifully.”  
  
“She would.”  
It was then that Luke headed over towards her. “Mara,” he said, “Can I…talk to you for a bit?”  
  
Mara nodded, then turned towards Leia. “You don’t mind if Luke and I have some privacy for a moment, do you?”  
  
Leia nodded, before leaving to go into the village – in the distance, Mara watched as she and Sabe embraced, talked eagerly and at length about what happened on the Death Star, as Ventress settled beside Vader and Padme, seeming still bewildered at the new world that she had stepped into.  
  
“She’ll be all right, won’t she?” Luke said. “I mean…”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Mara,” Luke said. “I have to admit…there was actually a moment when I was afraid I’d lost you.” He seemed to be looking away, hesitant, blushing a bit, even more vivid than that time in Jabba’s Palace. And Mara could read it in his face too clearly.  
  
 _He’s in love with me_. _After all this time…_  
  
“How long?” she said.  
  
“A while,” Luke said. “Tried to keep it to myself. Can’t say I did a very good job.” A bit of a laugh. Then he grew more serious. “I know that Jedi aren’t supposed to have attachments, but…I thought I’d at least tell you.”  
  
“We’re not the Jedi of old,” Mara said. “And…there’s always a place in my future for you, Luke. For everyone. For you.”  
  
He was close. Very close. Mara didn’t think that she had ever seen his eyes that blue before. So clear. Then they closed, and Mara closed her eyes, and they kissed. It wasn’t like in the holovids where everything was perfect, it was hesitant and soft and scared and nervous, but it was a kiss all the same.  
  
“Finally!” Han said. “Stars, what took the two of you so long?”  
  
 _Han Solo, destroyer of moments._ Mara drew away to look at Han, who was grinning. “Knock it off, Han,” she said, but it was playful.  
  
Han shrugged. “Not complaining,” he said. “I was wondering when you would actually say something, kid…as opposed to just blushing.”  
  
“I don’t blush!” Luke said, but he was laughing.  
  
Mara grinned. “So, Han,” she said, “What would you say if I told you that you could possibly become King of Alderaan?”  
  
Han actually seemed, for the first time ever, speechless. Then, “That’s something all right. But I don’t think that I’d be a good king. I’m more of the scoundrel type; Leia said it herself.”  
  
“But what about you and her?” Mara said.  
  
“One day,” Han said. “We’re going to have a lot to do in the morning. But come on. The others are probably having pittens wondering where you guys wandered off to.”  
  
Mara laughed. “Come on then.”  
  
It was later in the night that she and Luke danced – Mara couldn’t say that she had danced at celebrations necessarily before, but dancing to the music that the Ewoks made, drawn into the merriment and relief of finally having won all this, the others embracing and taking comfort in the presence of the others, sharing stories and refreshment and toasts to the dead and the living and plenty more – she felt almost as if she could do this. She and Luke spun together, laughing occasionally when the both of them stumbled before resuming the dance, the forest itself seeming to spin around them in a glorious, radiant blur, and the fireworks exploding in the sky, filling it with color and the joy that the Emperor, after all this struggle, was finally dead.  
  
And on Endor, two Force ghosts, specters of teachers past, watched the celebrations rage into the night, with healing and rebirth on the horizon, and the best yet to come.


	19. Epilogue: Rebuilding And Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mara wraps things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: Yes, I definitely know that this epilogue's pretty much non-Force-Awakens compliant. I kind of figured it would be. Click the link below to see my thoughts on the Force Awakens (spoiler alert: it's definitely worth the price of admission):  
> http://ladyhadhafang.livejournal.com/596266.html

_Mara Kenobi here._  
  
_The war’s over. The war is finally over. I can’t believe it, but it’s actually over. It’s gone on so long that in all honesty, there were times when I thought it would never end. In a way, it almost became my life – the fighting, the frustration, the wondering what we would do in order to reach a better tomorrow._  
  
_But it’s over. Thank the Force. It’s finally over. I had to of course let the others know about their Force sensitivity – they reacted as one would react if they were told that they were Force sensitive out of the blue, but in the end, they came around to it – some more slowly than others, of course. Han didn’t take the fact well that one of his relatives (distant, at least) had been killed in Order 66 and the Great Jedi Purge. He actually cursed the Emperor even more for that – that he had a whole heritage under his nose and didn’t know it. I don’t blame him. I don’t blame him at all. But in the end, the best he could have done was try and honor her memory the best he could if only by helping to rebuild Alderaan with Leia and rebuild the Order. I don’t know if Han Solo ever thought that he would become a hero, in a way that would call to mind things out of holovids and old stories that I used to read. But I suppose nothing ever turns out as one expects._  
  
_My father got fully repaired – his limbs that Padme sliced off were regrown thanks to new technological advancements in the Rebel Alliance, and he got grafts for his hair that managed to match the hair he’d had before it had been burnt off. I know that when it happened, Padme, Ventress, my mother, and Vader actually wept for him. I admit I couldn’t help but weep. It was like after twenty-three years or so, my father was a whole man._  
  
_Ventress herself – so far, she’s mostly gone on her own, says that she needs to sort some things out. But she did wish us luck in rebuilding the Jedi Order, and asked Padme to not repeat the mistakes of the past, and to not teach the future students to fear their Order, or their emotions, or anything of that nature. “Fearing one’s Order is what the Emperor did,” she said. “And that is something you must never do.” But Padme wouldn’t do that. I know she wouldn’t. She is, in the end, nothing like the Emperor. She did occasionally express fear over becoming like the Emperor after the Battle of Endor, but I know that she’s nothing like him. He chose to terrorize others, she chose to help them. A whole galaxy of difference there, I think._  
  
_Padme and Vader recently married long after Han and Leia stopped their will-they-won’t-they and tied the knot. I’m glad for them. Honestly, after everything that happened, they deserve nothing more than the best for one another. I mean that, with all my heart. Luke and I – well, we actually decided to give the matter of dating an actual try. I confess that I hadn’t really considered the matter of dating before, and though I still have a lot of rebuilding to do with the Jedi Order (I didn’t end up being Grand Master, in the end. I thought Padme would be a better Grand Master. After all, she has leadership skills, grace, serenity – she’d be the best one for the position. I’m just recently turned twenty-three; I’m not exactly Grand Master material. Besides, I’m worried about somehow repeating Master Yoda’s mistakes, and that can’t happen. Padme, on the other hand, won’t. I just know it), perhaps I can find a way to balance that and the matter of rebuilding the Order. It’s worth a shot, more than worth it, actually. Because Luke is a wonderful man, and so far, it’s been good for us, both of us._  
  
_Not everything’s been completely fine in terms of rebuilding. There’s still a lot of dead to bury – we already buried the fallen Ewoks, but we also recently buried our Rebel dead and gave a funeral ceremony for those who were shot down in the Battle of Endor. There’s still a lot of dead to bury – some of whom I don’t think we got to bury properly because we never really found their bodies, but I hope nonetheless that we gave them the respect they deserved. We owe them that much, at least. And there’s still some people who have been more than slightly unhappy with the fact that we won this battle, that the Empire is fallen – perhaps they’ve gotten adjusted to the whole thing to the point they can’t imagine the idea of the Empire being gone. To some, the Empire wasn’t the monster that we knew it was, but a sort of stability, a government that they would willingly die for. We’ve had to fight against them in the process of rebuilding, of course, and many others. And then there are the many worlds that have been ravaged by the Empire, destroyed. Ada, Ben and Leia went to the ruins of Old Alderaan recently just to pay their respects, and get some closure with their families and their friends and old lovers – Han went with Leia as well, just to offer some form of support. We all went, because even if we weren’t natives of Old Alderaan, we knew somebody who had been, and supporting them was the best that we could do. And besides, the Order had it wrong – you don’t get rid of negative emotions by suppressing them, but confronting them, understanding them. It’s only there that you actually make some room for healing. It doesn’t mean you’ll automatically get rid of them, because nothing is ever, ever that easy, but it’s a start, and that’s what matters in the end._  
  
_We still have our work cut out for us. I know that. But in the end, I think that we’ve finally paved out a future for ourselves – the future that some of us thought that we would never be able to see. Where we don’t have to live in fear of being hunted, or arrested, or our planets destroyed for standing against a government. We gave ourselves that future, against all odds, and gave everyone else that future as well. We’ve still been looking for potential candidates, this time none of that taking-them-young stuff; anyone can come to the Order if they want to, and nobody’s being kept from their families. No. Not on Padme’s watch, they won’t. She’s not going to let the mistakes of the Jedi Order repeat themselves, because she’s not that kind of person._  
  
_It’s going to be a hard road. But with Padme’s leadership, Leia, Han and Ada and the others rebuilding Alderaan, and Mon Mothma and the others helping to rebuild the Republic, we will have a future. For all the hardship and misery that we’ve endured, we’ve finally forged ourselves a future._  
  
_We’re finally free._


End file.
